Morris High School - Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

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THE WRENCH The courthouse was full, for the case was one of unusual interest. Apart from the fact that a murder case would have attracted the attendance of every man, woman, and child in the Village anyhow, the Government had sent up two Scotland Yard men to investigate, as Mr. Forster was one of its most skilful chemists, and his loss was a serious one. On this day, the momentous day of his first case, P. C. 22 polished his myriad buttons to a dazzling brightness, brushed his newest blue suit to a speckless state of formality, and went an hour early to court. The preliminaries ended, the clerk came to the real business of the trial, the Witnesses. O 'Malley and Ferguson, representatives of Scotland Yard, London! he called out, and all leaned forward, in hushed attention. Mr. O'Malley, the defending counsel, a government employee, and fully in sympathy with the detectives, began, please state what you have discovered in regard to the case. O'Malley, a gentleman with a heavy face and the extra- ordinary size of shoe which inevitably reveals the ex-policeman, took his place on the witness stand. He spoke of the murder of Forster, a government employee, of the suspicious finding of the accused man near the scene of the crime, of his still more suspicious name, Reinholtz, and of the most suspicious fact of the culprit's initials, D. R., 011 the bloodstained wrench. Circumstances were so incontestably against the man, that it was in mere obedience to the rules of precedent that the judge called for the next witness, and a gasp of pure astonish- ment went up as P. C. 22 pushed his way forward, demanding to be sworn in as a witness for the defense. Mr Judge, he began rather nervously, Your Worship, I was just thinking over the case, an' a few things presented 'emselves to me, so to speak. First, look at that wrench. Have you noticed where the blood is? On the handle! Now is it natural that any man would hold a wrench by the head? Now, here's another thing, he said, warming to his task, ulook at the pris'ner! All turned and looked at the poor cringing fellow in the dock, who was staring wide-eyed at P. C. 22. ' Has that man the strentth to 'andle a wrench like that, so as to knock in poor Mr. Forster 's head at one blow! 24 J- A YY, 7 ,

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Uhr mrrnrh First prize in Qui-Vive Short Slory Contest HE village of Horsforth, Surrey, was in an uproar. Everybody was at his door, gestu- lating exeitedly, discussing, suggesting, giving advice. P. lf. 22, of the local Con- stabulary Foree, a burly Britisher, shoul- dered his way through the crowd of excited men, dimly seen in the English fog. t'NVot's this 'ere? VVot's this about, Jenkins? he shouted, noticing for the first time the still form on the ground, and the little pool of slow-running blood. Murder, ejaeulated the other, a farmer of imposing dimensions. Murder, that's wot! We saw 'im walk down the street, heard 'im ery, and ran up. Mr. Forster it is, and right at 'is door, too! This was indeed a surprise. Mr. Forster was known to be engaged on Government work, and instantly a 'tclue, so beloved of the English police force, took shape in the con- stable's mind. Perhaps Mr. Forster had government secrets with him. Perhaps a spy. ....... . Lost in thought P. C. 22 failed to notice that the villagers had been searching around, and were now dragging towards him a whimpering man, who gave the name of Reinholtz, and who, they said, had been hiding in a neighboring ditch. The villagers, in their excitement, would have done him bodily harm, had not the constable thrust his mighty form between them and the unfortunate culprit. Leave 'im alone! l'll take care of 'im. 'Ere, Jenkins, take 'im up to 't' court, and Jenkins, the enormous, took the groveling wreteh almost bodily to the little prison up the street, followed by the crowd. Left to himself, P. C. 22 suddenly became busy. With agility surprising for a man of his bulk, he dropped to his knees, and, lighting a match Cfor the fog was thickj searched in the mud. Hum! he suddenly exclaimed, and unearthed from a hollow in the gravel a heavy wrench, with an iron handle covered with blood, stamped at one end with the initials D. R. Then, supremely satisfied with himself, and hugging his find closely, he returned to his interrupted supper of beef and onions. 23 Q -J

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THE WRENCH The women shuddered, remembering only too well the awful sight of the chemist's battered face. And again, gen'lemen. You 'ave examined the accused. 'Ave you noticed any marks of blood on 'im? You 'ave not! ls it not true that such a blow would cover the striker with blood? And lastly, listen to this. He whipped the week-old paper from his pocket and read: Yesterday night one of the air-raids that are now occuring so frequently, was directed against London. About eight Zep- pelins came over the Channel during a heavy fog, and followed the Horsforth-Hampstead line to London. Misled by the fog, however they did little damage. You see the connection, gentl'mcn? One of the airships, while passing over us, accidently dropped a wrench, and the head, being lighter, was uppermost. The handle hit the un- fort'nit man on the head, and this poor tramp has no more to do with it than I 'ave! And P. C. 22 sat down amid a profound silence. The rest was plain sailing. The judge summed up shortly, and the jury retired, to return in half an hour with the verdict of not guilty. P. C. 22 was the hero of the day. His ruddy face veritably beamed, and on the offer of a sergcantship from one of the London men, it radiated, if that were possible, still more cheeri- ness than before. Only one point troubled him. A At home, he dragged down his one book, a huge encyclo- pedia and dictionary. He looked up the list of abbreviations, and, supremely satisfied with himself, returned to his inter- rupted supper of beef and onions. The abbreviation D. R. was translated by Deutsches Reich. ALBERT RASKIN 25 Q J