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

Page 14 text:

I-Qw,,,,,, ,,,A ,N ,..1,,q... W ,W Q6 Q QE U A9 J.,. r M I xg QQ ? A 'K5:,?:rff:,W ' f , NWA! Ghemsfnv owe LANES' MAN 5 ya 'TERM GULF TEAYI 45 55,15 INTERPREYATIONS ' - A . 'A . fx 4 I , 'Q f f -A 'e f 3, ,ri I . V J-- I 'M ' - amd., : . 'ff' Q.. i , ,Q , K i W ff' h' I .54 A , , ,, AM b 44, V L. ,ff rl 551, - Moo SMNDWG smnsw nmcsas srseusrsn I X :U r 4 ' W , mn: SKY mah ON Page Ten FIRST NBTNNM-

Page 13 text:

THE i i NSTICK 12M UPM By VIVIAN RUTHEYRFORD I wish something exciting would happen, Jack said. I wish I could capture the bandit that's loose around here and get the reward. He and his family were gathered in the living room after supper. Jack's mother looked up from her sewing with a sigh, and his dad, who was reading the 'evening paper, silently shook his head. Jack's two small sisters giggled audibly and Jack turned a dark look upon them. It was not the first time he' had expressed his eagerness to capture a thief. When Jack and his sisters had gone to bed and his mother and father were left alone, his mother said, Jim, I wish we could give that boy of ours a scare he would never forget. Maybe he would quit moping around. At least it would give him something else to talk about. Have you a plan, Mother? Well, I've been thinking about it all the evening and I wondered if we couldn't get Mr. Aiken next door to hold us up or something. Say, that's a wonderful idea. I'll see him about it tomorrow. Next day he and Mr. Aiken planned together. lVlr. Aiken was to hold them up the next night and then return their money the day after. When the evening came, Jack and the family were again sitting in the living room. As usual, Jack was seated moodily in a dark corner by the window looking out. Suddenly a voice cried out, 'Stick 'em up! Then a masked man came into the room, a revolver in each hand. Jack's father and mother smiled at each other slyly as they raised their hands, but to Jack they showed very frightened faces. Both his sisters began to whimper. The room was lighted only by the fireplace so Jack had not been noticed by the bandit. Hand over the dough and jewels, the intruder snarled, and be quick about it. Mr. Aiken certainly was acting very realistically. .Iack's dad handed his money to the man and his mother took off her few jewels. Meantime, Jack had slipped unnoticed out the door. Just as his mother handed over her jewels another voice cried out, Reach for the sky, and be care- full You're covered! and the thug felt a gun poked in his ribs. The sur- prised parents saw Jfack's head behind the bandit's shoulder. 'ATie him up, Dad, called Jack. I'll keep him covered. Then Jack took the thief's guns which had dropped to the floor. A'But wait a moment, Jack, his father cried, that's only Mr. Aiken. We decided to give you your wish to have something happen. See? and walking up to the dark figure he pulled off the mask. The face which confronted them was the face of the notorious bandit for whom the reward was offered! At this moment, the agile thug started for the window. Suddenly, he found himself confronted by a gun-behind which was another masked man. At this he turned around and snarled, holding out his hands, HAll rightl I guess I'm done for. Tie me up. Jack and his dad, who had immediately rushed after the first intruder were now standing by the window. , I Am I late? came in the familiar voice of Mr. Aiken, and he stepped in, pulling off his mask. Well, not exactly, laughed .Iack's father. It seems you were just in time to keep a real thief from escaping. Thus, while Jack's mother tele- phoned the police, his dad explained the situation to both Jack and Mr. Aiken. Then the police arrived, took the bandit, and praised Jack for his bravery. They told him to call at the station in a few days and get his reward. The funny part of it is, laughed Jack, The gun I used is only one of those water squirt guns I had when I was a little kid. Page Nine I 4

Page 15 text:

CIW!! STOCKS AND BONDS VERSUS BASKETBALL By MARY GUDERIAN Turn in your suit, you can't come on the floor again. But, Coach- Never mind-get out and stay out. Bill walked slowly across the gymnasium, and as he went out the door he muttered to himself, What a fool I've been. I get a chance to play on the team and then go and act like a perfect ninnyf' Bill was an apt boy, a Junior at Cornwall-the best boys' school in the state of Michigan. At his father's death, he had been left scads of money. This winter his mother was in Italy, consequently, Bill resided at the dormitory. Bill thought of none of them now, money, Italy, or school. Basketball was foremost in his mind. He crossed the campus, conscious of little about him. He hopped into his roadster and was about to turn on the ignition when A'Pea- nuts Gordon called from a window in the dorm, A'Bill, a telegram for you! Rats, mumbled Bill, 'spose Uncle Mort's comin' to town again. He entered the hall and found that his guess had been right. The telegram MR WILLIAM PORTAGE LINCOLN HALL CORNWALL INSTITUTE GRAND RAPIDS MICHIGAN BILL COMING ON BUSINESS STOP 9 P M TRAIN STOP MEET ME IE CONVENIENT UNCLE MORT Bill crumpled the telegram and tossed it in the general direction of the waste basket-then he went out. Why does that guy have to come now? I'm in a bad enough mess without some relative snoopin' around. Uncle Mort wasn't of much interest to Bill, he didn't talk about a thing but stocks and bonds, and so when Bill drew up to the station that evening he did not look forward with joy to seeing his Uncle. Little was said on the way to the hotel, but after arriving there and reservations taken care of, the two sat down in the lobby to talk. To Bill's surprise his unclebegan, Well, Bill, I read in the Sports Column that you made the regular quint. Congratulations, boyl I often wondered why you didn't go out for sports more than you did. With your physical and mental ability you ought to be the star player. Huh? grunted Bill in amazement. Uncle Mort not talking about stocks and bonds! Bill, I suppose that you'll be surprised when I tell you that I once was a star basketball player too, but because I had plenty of moneyrand knew I was a brilliant player, I thought I could run the coach. He got tired of my line and kicked me off the team. If I had had any sense about me I should ha've apologized and acted like a sport but I was too good for everybody around there so I never did give in-I've regretted it many times since. Oh pshaw, you don't want to hear my tale of woe, but you make up for your conceited uncle, will you? 'AI surely will, Uncle Mort, said Bill-what was there to say? He couldn't tell Uncle Mort that he was a piker, too. Next day Bill walked into the gym, squared his shoulders-then knocked on the coach's ollice door. The coach admitted him and told him to be seated. read: Page Eleven 4