North Quincy High School - Manet Yearbook (North Quincy, MA)

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Whereupon, the active brain of Detective-Sergeant Ponchi went into high-geared function. Motive. . . he muttered, Motive ...most important! Mr. Hightone, may I see the school ledgers. . .may prove helpful. Why, our books for this year wouldn't help much. But, those of last year are filed in the attic-store- room. I'l1 have those brought down. And Mr. Hightone pressed the but- ton which summoned Miss Goldgraft from the outer ofiice. It was a pale Miss Goldgraft who answered his insistent summoning. To all appearances, Miss Goldgraft was a very ill young woman, but Mr. Hightone's quick glance observed none of this. Miss Goldgraft, he snapped, will you tell the janitor to bring last year's ledgers from the attic storeroom. Yes, Miss Goldgraft, repeated the irrepressible Hamfatt. The ledgers. . .janitor. . .most h e lp ful, most helpful, don't y'see. ...up in the attic. . .on the top, y'know. . .hurry now. . .what's keeping you? Miss Goldgraft returned to the outer office to face a veritable storm of questions from the hard-bitten reporters of Oshkosh's several news- papers. Ignoring these, she sum- moned a janitor from the corridor without who dropped his idle broom and entered the office. Go to the. . .the attic storeroom and -bring down last year's ledgers, she told him and leaving her sub- ordinate in charge, she excused her- self and headed after the departing janitor. , 1 If 1 Ik Joseph Mulligan had averred Cal- tho' only to most discreet soulsj that he was the integrating force of the Ponchi-Mulligan combine. There- fore, it was most fitting that he should take this opportunity to prove it. Sending one of his most know- ing leers in the general direction of the lilting Ponchi, he spoke with what he considered subtle emphasis. Boss, dontcha think we oughta leave this 'till later. We got the lay of the land, now, and all we gotta do is give it a little thought. Be- sides, we're due at the commislfs in fifteen minutes. Guiseppe Ponchi, the occidental Charlie Chan, rose languidly Che was capable of no other tempol and directing an apologetic glance at the fast-expiring lion of Oshkosh, he stumbled merrily out of the oflice followed by Mrs. Mu1ligan's pillar of justice, Joseph, who departed with a curt nothing about telling the janitor to never mind. The investigators gone, Mr. High- tone turned wearily to the row of buttons, pressed that of Miss Gold- graft for the nth time, arose, and stood staring stupidly through rain- blurred windows. Outside, young Miss Kratz, the of- fice stenographer, heard the bell ringing for Miss Goldgraft and since the latter was out answered the sum- mons herself. In reply to the wilted principal's half-hearted queries for Miss Gold- graft, she told him of the secretary's departure after Mr. Scrubbard, the janitor. Oh yes, the janitor,. . .well, tell her to delay the order. There's no need of the ledgers until later. That's all. Upon returning to the outer ofiice, Miss Kratz came upon the secretary just returning. She marked her MANET 1 1

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of the befuddled Mr. Hightone through the large window opening on the spacious lawns. He watched the clouds piling up in the east and shuddered at the apt simile it sug- gested. So fair a day to be so' spoiled, so joyous an occasion to end in such a shocking fashion. It was unbelievable, he mused, to realize that such a thing could happen. Miss Heppy-button missing! He had called her home which she shared with her sister only to learn she had not returned there the night before! Miss Heppy-button who had never been known to be absent during the last five years! His reverie was dis- rupted by a sharp rap on the office door. His new secretary, the engag- ing Miss Goldgraft, appeared. Are. . .are you ready for the meeting, Mr. Hightone? she queried. Er...why yes, Miss Goldgraft, yes, he muttered. Send the in- vestigators in. And Mr. Jones ? Why, Mr. Jones. . .of course. . . Mr. Jones. He has every right to attend. Send him right in! And tell Mr. Hamfatt to come in, also. But . . .Miss Goldgraft. . .no reporters! no reporters-by any means. Get rid of 'em, tell 'em it is only a mat- ter of. . .well. . .er. . .hmm. That's all, Miss Goldgraftf' Thereupon, Mr. Hightone, the flower of his social circle, hurried to his desk, struck a pose of indifference and aloofness made perfect by con- stant practice, and waited. The first to enter was none other than the agitated J. J. amidst flying coat tails, cane, tie, gloves, hat, and such, all of which comprises a most important factor in your impression of Jasper Jones--a self-made man 1 0 MANET - which accounts for a lot of things. The equally as fiustered submaster, Horace Hamfatt, followed, consist- ing mainly of one CD paunch, one C11 florid face of sagging con- struction, and one Q11 pair of most spindly and inadequate legs. And now the investigators, the typical poker-face one-look-and-its- solved Philo Vances of Oshkosh, Detective-sergeant Ponchi who at- tained national fame for his part in Askwhitch Case and his stooge and counter-part, Joseph Mulligan, one of those big, silent specimens of Ameri- can manhood. Only Mr. Mulligan wasn't big, nor was he silent, for that matter, but otherwise the de- scription iits him like a glove. Having effected their usual grace- ful entrance, the pair collapsed in the remaining chairs Cwhich didn't remain longh and glowered with all possible glow. Headmaster Hightone, feeling the urge of the moment, began. Gentlemen, I'm sure you feel as I do! That such a thing should hap- pen, could happen in my school will ever be my cross to bear. Quite a figure that cross to bear -yessir-lettem see how a 'man responds to situations like this, mused Mr. Hightone, and continued. For the sake of the fair name of our school, I urge and ardently hope for immediate apprehension and you can rely on Mr. Hamfatt and myself for all possible coopera- tion. All possible cooperation.. .any- time. . .we urge it. . .yessiree. . .any- time. . .fair name of our school, y'know. . .dear me. And Mr. Hamfatt subsided be- neath his superior's regal frown.

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superior's untidy appearance and mussed hair and contrasted it to her own natty attire. She noticed also that the secretary had the ledger with her. No need of those, now, she said, The investigators have left. Mr. Hightone is alone with Mr. Hamfatt and Mr. Jones. Miss Goldgraft seemed visibly re- lieved and dropping the ledgers on her desk departed once more as hur- riedly as before. What strange behavior, mused Miss Kratz and then dismissing the thought from her mind, turned to the remaining reporters who had not followed the investigators out. ill Ill il 1 The impatiently awaited Ponchi and company did not return till late afternoon and burst suddenly in on the suppressed atmosphere of the outer oflice. Approaching Miss Gold- graft who was busying herself pre- paring notices for the broadcast, the junior member, who usually attended to such boresome details, announced himself and followed the already dis- appearing Mr. Ponchi into the ofhce all the while making a mental note of Miss Goldgraft's possibilities. Dioes he suspect Miss Goldgraft? --you say. Oh no-Mr. Mulligan was far too dull an individual-or perhaps far too nice a man-to at- tend to business during business hours. He noticed Miss Goldgraft'-s possibilities, not as a suspect, but as a future Mrs. Mulligan and it has been to dear Joseph's everlasting thankfulness he never opined this openly. As he crossed the office threshold, his shapeless ears ran into a -staccato 1 2 MANET outburst that even the loquacious Mrs. Mulligan had never matched in those days when she was loved for stew and feared for her tongue. The producer of the unintelligible ha- rangue was the much mu-stachioed Jasper and, the reason for it, from what the disturbed Mr. Ponchi could gather, was the loss of the famed collection. However, J. J. was not destined to attain the peak tif anyl of his verbal bombardment. Miss Gold- graft once more appeared this time, in her official capacity as office secre- tary. The notices, Mr. Hightone, she remarked. It's time for your daily broadcast. As she spoke, she handed the principal a typewritten sheet. The notices. . .eh. Well, gentle- men. . .the school must go on! You will excuse me? He arose and went to the outer office to broadcast. Mr. Hightone had often pictured himself undergoing a trying situation with flying colors. Here was his chance to show the staff just how a MAN re-acted in such cases. He non- chalantly approached the micro- phone, glanced at his sheet and noticed that there were a few student speakers on the list. Miss Goldgraft, he called, the students, first, please. William Williams isn'ft here, his secretary answered. He was sup- posed to speak on the Honor Society meeting. Perhaps you'd better give his notice. I think I shall, Miss Goldgraft, I think I shall. You don't suppose he's disappeared, too, do you? fto be continuedj