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

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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?

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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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TIIE A RTISAN 13 Not as much as a dog, answered Blinky. I saw the house, though, and a bum-lookingplace it was-ugly and square, just like a big chunk of stone with windows in it. t'And as you failed to attract the notice of anybody in the house, you set otf to tell somebody else ot what you had heard ? 'That's it,', agreed the co11vict. f'And when you came tearing along the road I called to you-and got knocked oft? me pins for my trouble I 'Tm sorry about that, said XVeston. But tell me, Jones, are you quite sure that you haven't invented this story VVhy, I ain't got the brains to think up a yarn like that, protested Blinky. No, it's the truth I'm telling you-the whole truth and nothing but the truth! Them three Hindus, or they might have been Burmese XVallahsg I ain't sure of that, they means dirty workll' Ted paused for some moments. Obviously, his first duty was to capture Blinky Jones and see him placed safely under lock and key. Against this was his own natural impulse to tind out if there was any truth in the man's strange story, and having sized up Blinky, he was inclined to believe' that an early visit to Lonesome was quite desirable. Look here, Jones, he said suddenly. If I take you back with me to 'Lonesomej you'1l have to be on trust. If anything happens which causes me to take my eye otf you, you Won't beat it? Not me, answered the convict fervently. I've had enough playing 'cops and robbers' for the past day, and all I asks is to be set safely back in the 'big house to finish out me time in comfort. O. K. Now, show me the way to 'Lonesomej and if any good comes of your information tonight. I can promise that you Won't lose by it. They set ofli across the marshland, and the black mare, now as docile as qypet, walked behind them. For some time they con- tinued over thc 'rolling, wind-swept marshland, and then the moon, breaking through the racked clouds, revealed to them the tall, gray walls of t'Lonesome. That's the place, whispered the convict. Did you ever see anything like it? Looks as if the guy that owns it killed someone and is locking himself up i11 his own jail for it 977 77 177 Q