Mechanic Arts High School - Artisan Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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Tlllfl ARTISAN 11 The mare responded at once to ,her master's well-known voice, and she had covered a quarter of a mile at a brisk pace wl1en a withered pine, shattered by the gale, came smashing down across the road in her path. The mare reared in terror, scream- ing, and the next minute bounded forward. All right, old girl. you'1l run yourself out! Ted said. Through tl1e roaring gale the animal raced, until suddenly a man ran into the road just ahead of her, shouting and Waving his arms. Hey! Stop! he called out. Wait a minute. I- The mare swerved, her glistening black shoulder struck the man a glancing blow, and he went spinning to the side of the road. The incident forced Ted XVeston to abandon l1is original in- tention of letting the mare run herself out, and he was com- pelled to use the full strength of his arms and legs on her. His violent methods seemed to surprise her, as she faltered in her pace and slackened her speed. That was the end of her tempo- rary revolt, and after a few seconds responding to the trooper, she turned in the road and meekly trotted back to the spot Where the fallen lllilll lay. As the mare halted. Ted leaped from the saddle and moved quickly to the side of the injured Wayfarer. He was quite a small man, almost entirely enveloped in an overcoat that was several sizes too big for him. He moved when Ted leaned over him illlll the action caused his overcoat to fall apart. Ted's concern for the man's injuries gave place at once to amazement, for beneath his long coat the stranger wore the gaudy uniform of a convict. Tim Horst: or llfIYS'l'ERY HE convict opened his eyes and looked up in bewilder- ,M , ment at the face of the young trooper. Then the sight ' of the policeman's peaked hat seemed to reassure him, and he sighed as though with relief. So l'm back l1o1ne again ill the 'cooler'l he murmured. IJon't be cross with mc, warden, for doing a walk-out, 'cause l've had a rotten time since I left. Xothin' to eat except turnips, and no kind wardens to watch over me In x .,l,!..,,,Z.....g ,'h.a.,5 4,1 2 1 5 XA, - ' . N . --.WW ' ii.

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10 Tllli Al!'l'IS'AN gqawmmwhmkdsmwvwwhwhmh T . LITERARY DEPARTMENT R THE HOUSE THAT VANISHED by IKUISICNT A. SPEXUIC f Bl. A. ll. S., 'Ill Tun NIGIIT ov 'run S'ro1m HI lllglll xx is mild and NTOIIIUQ the moon was obscured 5 ' 'P -' f ' .' by the racing clouds, and all the while the wind roared 21' ,,..T 1.55 in l'renzieml blasts across the great, bleak expanse known as XVilderm-ss Marsh. 1 Along a winding. windswept road on the outskirts of the marsh, Trooper Ted Weston of the niounted police rode on his laitliful black mare. The mare was nervous, the screaming wind terrifying her to sm-h an extent that words were not sufficient to soothe her. Steady, girl! urged Ted, patting her sleek neck. This is a cheerless part of the world, I know, but it's our job to go where we're sent. illll sorry, though, that I missed the turn at Four Pines and brought you so far out of your right course. Ted XVeston was not familiar with this barren stretch of deserted lands, for he was attached to the Mounted Police Sta- tion at Eastport. Late that afternoon, when he had reported for duty, he had been told to set off for lvllllllilllllltflll, where he was required for special duty at a fair on the following day. Unfortunately, not being familiar with this inland country, Ted had lost his way, and he now thought that in order to reach Midhaxnpton he would have to wend his way over the deserted and forbidding nlarshland. The fury of the gale had come to add to his other troubles. Ted called eiicoui-agingly to his horse. Come along, old girl. let's make a gallop of it. The faster we go the sooner we shall be in comfortable quarters in Mid- hampton.

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ia THE Alrris-AN Steady,', urged Ted. You're not back there yet, and Pm not a prison warden. I'm a mounted policeman, and a few main- utes ago my horse knocked you over. XVhat's your name? Pm Blinky Jones, otherwise Convict 1167, doing three years for getting mixed up with a gang of crooks, said the convict. I ain't complaining, either, 'cause I asked for trouble and got it I You've made your troubles worse by breaking prison, said Ted not unkindly, for there was something rather attractive about tl1e whimsical faee of the runaway. He looked in no sense a dangerous man, and gave the impression that bad luck, rather than had character, had got him into trouble. I VYait a second. said the little man, jumping to his feet. l've just remembered that l've got something to tell you-some thing important! There's going to be a murder near here to- night Z Unable to take this announcement seriously, Ted smiled. Oh ! he said. You'rc not thinking of killing me, I hope? Not likely, that's not my game, retorted Blinky. Listen! A while ago I was hiding among some bushes when some men stopped near and started talking. They was Hindus from India. Hindus from India ? asked Ted. W'ell, what about it? ' t'They talked in their native lingof, went on Blinky, but I understood them, ,cause I spent five years in the army out there. They said that tonight they was going to kill a man by the name of John Lane, who lives in a house called Lonesome, which is near the marsh. IVhen they l1ad gone I didnlt know what to do, so I set off in hopes of getting some help. While I was on my way I came to the house. Just where is this place? asked Ted. Not a quarter of a mile from here, answered the convict. It's a house surrounded by great, high, stone walls, and with great double gates of wood, just like a jail. I thought it was a jail until I saw the name 'Lonesome' on the gates. lVell, what did you do then ? asked Ted. I . I banged on the gates trying to make somebody hear, ex- plained Blinky. But nobody came, so l elimbed up a tree and looked over the walls, hoping to see somebody in the garden. 'tAnd you saw nobody?