Mechanic Arts High School - M Yearbook (St Paul, MN)

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THE A REAPER REAPS A CROP A Modemized Pardoinefs Tale By HELEN ADELE GRANT Harry, the Rat, Louie, the Dope, and Tony, the Pineapple, were all having their gin straight. They were in One Ear O'Connelly's talk loud joint, sprawled around a little table in the darkest corner of the dirty, dark, grimy room. Harry, the Rat, with his watery, blinking blue eyes and red pimples Che'd evidently overlooked Yeast, so perhaps he didn't listen to Rudy Valleej and his black, oily, Hslicked-down hair the had heard of Stacombj , was pounding out the tune Just a Gigolo by rapping his long clammy fingers on the table, and by jerking his dangling cigarette up and down and by putting in the sad parts with loud but touching gulps of his gin. Louie, the Dope, with his ever half- shut eyes and overhanging nose and toothless mouth, was staring into space, probably dreaming of his dear old pipe. Tony, the Pineapple, was the hand- some member, and he sat thinking how superior he was, his black eyes full of scorn, his nicely marcelled hair perfectly combed, his tie arranged just so, his suit a perfect fit, and not even a shoelace untied. The Rat leaned forward tensely, Listenl In order to beat dat guy, 'Scarface', we guys should hang out togeder. If any of us guys gets bumped off, de odder fellows should slit de throats of de cruel murderer. Let's guzzle to dis plan. The Dope and Pine- apple guzzled, and everything was settled. Suddenly an overpowering uproar was heard. Hundreds of high-powered cars blowing their hornsg sixty bands all lustily playing different tunes, drums beating, fireworks set off, guns shooting, the air filled with perfume from orchids, roses and every kind of flowers imagineablepone hundred people crying, children laughing-what was it? Somebody was dead, of course. Hey, youse, go out and find out who was croakedl and mind youse get the right name, you stupe, instructed one of our heroes. MAW, I don't have to. Don't you know who dat is? Why, dat's a guy what was called Bugs Doran, and he lived in dat berg, Chicago, A guy by de name of De Reaper is knocking 'em off by de hundreds there, Nothin' slow about him. Say, dis guy was a friend of yourn, wasn't he? So they got 'Bugs', well, well flfflxlfxl Qcursesj. Dey ought not let dat guy get away wid it. What say we meander along after a whiskey and take dis guy for a ride? So Harry, the Rat, Louie, the Dope, and Tony, the Pineapple, started out in their 700 horsepower tin can. They tore along a narrow side road at a mere 75 miles an hour. A low long yellow-bodied car sped toward them. Something happened, and the two cars crashed. I Louie, the Dope, crawled out iirstg the Rat and the Pineapple following. They hauled out from underneath the other car a most unusual figure. He was clad in long, black flowing robes, with only his face showing. His face was wrinkled, and he appeared very old. The Dope started to speak to him, but the Rat had to do the talking as the Dope sounded like a fire-engine whistle, due to his toothless condition Che wasn't old, but had his teeth removed once when it was absolutely necessary to have an immediate disguisej, and the Pineapple was much too scornful to be bothered talking. The Rat poked a gat in the poor old fellow's ribs and said, Say, why are youse all garbed up like dis wit' only yer mug showin'? Where do youse tink youse were goin'? And get dis straight, tell us de hangout of dis guy, the Reaper, or we'll put ya' on de spot, right here and now! The old man blinked mildly and replied, I'm an old, old man and because of that should be treated kindly and with respect, Do not plague me because of my age, I pray you. I have wished for and begged for many years Page Seven 1 l l 4.1

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THE SW Is this yours? queried the sergeant, holding up the small-sized garment. Why, no, sneered Blake, does it look like mine? It's the boy's there: he was hot and couldn't ride well holding it, so I relieved him of it. The finding of the pouch did not require much time or labor, but the sergeant wiped the perspiration from his forehead as he gazed into that bag. Turning to Bob he said, HI don't suppose you know what's in here, do you? There was only one possible answer to this if Bob wished to escape from the trap that was set for him, for trap it was, and Bob was ignorant of that answer. Why, sure, he answered, remembering what Grenden had told him, It's got some common pebbles in it. Bob's goose was cooked. Pebbles to an American boy are common stones, diamonds are the common stones of Africa. As he looked at the gleeful faces of the villains, and at the jubilant ser- geant, who had secured a spoken confession in front of many witnesses, Bob's mistake became apparent to him. He should have claimed total ignorance as to what was in that bag. He realized too late, that Blake and Grenden, knowing that they had no chance to escape with the diamonds, had used him, Bob, as a dupe, so that they could collect the reward oH'ered for the arrest of the diamond thief. The angry, fear-stricken boy sobbed aloud. Too well he knew that the penalty for diamond stealing was eighteen years in prison or at hard labor. Helwould be twice his present age, a broken man, when released. He was penniless, homeless, and just a boy. He stood no chance of ever extricating himself from that dreadful plot. At the trial, which was almost a farce, Bob Rheinwall was sentenced to eighteen years at hard labor in the diamond mines. Several months elapsed. Blake and Grenden received the reward and planned to go to America. But fate, in the person of greed, stepped in. Blake wanted the whole reward. He had conceived the whole plot. He had worked the hardest in carrying it out. Of course, Grenden had stolen the diamonds, but what was that? And so, greed urging him, he planned to poison Grenden. The night before they had planned to leave, Blake put the poison in Grenden's wine glass. But one thing Blake had overlooked and that was that Grenden was just as greedy as he. As they sat at their usual card game in the little shop a strained feeling came between them. Suddenly Grenden dropped his cards and with a forceful oath drank his wine and started to the door. A numbness crept over himg he slumped to the floor dead, as Blake let out a howl of unholy laughter. Then raising his glass he exclaimed, Here is to you, partner, may you rest in peace. I shall enjoy spending that whole reward myself. And so saying, he drained his glass. A tremor shook him, his startled eyes traveled to those of Grenden's staring up at him, an evil smirk in their depths. He who laughs last, laughs best. In the morning their bodies were found and the police notified. They inspected and searched the shop and in one corner of a little drawer in Grenden's safe, an envelope was found with the inscription, 'lln case of my death at the hands of Blake, open this. It was a signed confession of the whole conspiracy against Bob. Bob was released and in consideration of the wrong that had been done him, was given the reward for the return of the stolen diamonds. So two hundred thousand dollars the richer, a memorable if anguishing experience salted away, Bob returned to America and to college, now a cer- tainty, at graduation from high school, and in prison, a dream. One thing more, Bob, now a man of seventy, still hordes an uncut fifty carat blue-white diamond, the gift of the president of that particular corporation from which the diamond shipment had been taken, Page Six A

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THE that Mother Earth would let me in. She refuses to accept me, and so I live. If you really wish to meet the Reaper, you'll find him down the road a space. There is a tiny side-road, go down there until you reach three large oak trees, near there you'll find him. The Rat gave the old man a shove, and the three started off. They reached their destination, and under one of the trees they found some old mossy steps leading down. At the foot of the steps a battered old door: they forced it open and entered. When their eyes became accustomed to the darkness, they looked around. Box stacked upon box, piles of kegs, bottles and bottles of the best liquor,-they had come upon a gold mine. Their eyes glistened, and their hands itched. Gee, dis will supply us wid enough dough so we can play the horses, open up a night club, and run all the rackets we want. The Rat was again the spokesman. We gotta wait 'till night before we move it. One of us has got t' go into de town to get some grub, so we'll flip a coin to see who goes. The Pineapple, the youngest one, got tails: so he was to go. When he had gone, the Rat turned to the Dope. Lissen, when dat'guy comes back, you lead him over dere, and I'll drill him. Den dere'll only be two, and we'll be able to shake dice and step out all we want. You'll do dat, won't ya? he snarled, 'iYe-s-s, whistled and steamed the Dope. You drill him from de back, and I'll drill him from de side. So the two wicked ones planned. Now the Pineapple had also been figuring, He decided, however, it was better that only one had the hoard. He conceived the plan of-poisoning the other two, He went to a drug store, had a ham sandwich, then went to the drug counter which he found behind the bathing suits. He told the man he wanted to kill a rat. The man sold him some strychnine and some arsenic. He bought some food and three bottles. In two of the bottles he placed poison: the third he'd keep for himself. He filled the bottles with sparkling red wine and started back. When he returned, the Rat's plan was successful: and the Pineapple was no more. But the poor innocents, the Rat and the Dope, selected a bottle of the refreshing red wine. It chanced they chose one with poison in it. The Rat smiled Ca real lovely smile, as he had perfect brown and black teethj and said, Tonight we must work fast gettin' rid of de body and haulin' de stuff away, but now we'll chew and guzzle some to celebrate. They bit off Qreally more than they could chewj and guzzled the wine. Soon it looked like they were wrestling-with themselves. The Rat had play- fully wrapped his leg around his neck: and you couldn't tell what was what on the Dope, he wasiso ravelled up. They were in untold agony, both gasping for breath. After quite a time, they both quietly died a peaceful, natural death. So ends the tale of Harry, the Rat, Louie, the Dope, and Tony, the Pine- apple. But gather up closer to my knee, children, while I spill you a little secret. Don't be too fast on the road of LIFE, or you're liable to have a crash up with this guy called The Reaper, 'cause he's still hanging just around the corner! CNO, children, not the same corner that Prosperity is just aroundj. Comparison 5531 CARYL BOTI-IE '31 Once I watched a pair of birds Courting in a great elm tree, And their actions, sombre one, Were very much like you and me. The hero, strutting, seemed to say Here, here. Very near, very near. And she, primping, sweetly replied Oh my dear, my dear, my dear! Page Eight