Providence Technical High School - Review Yearbook (Providence, RI)

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104 THE TECH REVIEW 1928 in inky darkness, except for the small amount of light which entered through the several narrow cracks of the frail pe- tition. A window at the foot of his bed indicated that the night was well ad- vanced. The rain was pattering against the roof in a constant stream, and the wind was howling around the building, slipping in through the cracks and mak- ing a chilling current. In one corner of the room indistinctly outlined, was a pile of cases stacked to the roof. “Illegal liquor,” thought Norman. “If dad only knew about this.” Norman had hardly finished these ob- servations, when above the wind he heard excited voices of men approaching. Ev- idently the “boss” had arrived. The door burst open and from the sound of the scuffing feet and of the voices, Norman concluded that they were four in all. “Never mind about the guy in there,” said a voice which Norman took for that of the leader of the gang, “we ain’t got time to bother with him. We got to get ready for business. 1 just got word that the sleuth is out on a raid tonight. Joe saw him leave with five other men in his car and he left town in this direction. Course lie may not he after us, hut we ain’t going ta he found unprepared. Rill, you put on your slicker and get out there a couple cf hundred yards up the road. If you see any lights, breeze hack in a hurry. Get me?” “Right.” Now you men get that gun ready and bar them windows.” A bustle indicated all were hard at work. “Sleuth!” Why that was the name they called dad. Hope surged through Nor- man. The thought that perhaps his father was approaching consoled him somewhat. What would “dad” say when he found him there. Still, there was a possibility that the raid was somewhere else. Racked with pains from his bruised body and aching bones Norman realized the helplessness of his condition. 11 is mind was distracted from these dark- thoughts by the sudden return of “Bill.” “Boys, we’re in for it. A car’s coming up the road.” Norman’s heart lcajicd into his mouth. Dad was coming to his rescue though ig- norant of the fact. “Anybody that’s goin' to crash the gates in on us has got to face this toy.” a voice exclaimed, “a hundred shot per is not so good to dodge.” “Shut up.” This came from the leader. “Get down to work and let them open up first.” “O. K. boss.” The noise of an approaching car came out of the night. Then the sound ceased as the machine came to a stop under the protection of the trees a hundred or so feet away. An intense moment of silence followed. Then from outside a sharp voice broke the silence. “Hello there in the cabin.” Sure enough it was dad’s voice. The hail went by unanswered. For a few mo- ments, Norman heard the whispering of the men. “Hello!—Hello! In the name of the law we command you to surrender. We’ve got you surrounded so there’s no chance to escape.” Then the gruff voice of the leader an- swered, “Come and get us if you want ns.” The reports of revolvers followed and then the gangsters’ machine gun began shooting its deadly missiles. The combat was on. Norman was on edge. The gangsters were firing upon the officers. His father was among them and in danger. He must find some way of helping him. Gritting his teeth, as he swung his feet off the bed, he slowly rose to a sitting position.

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1928 speed, was driven by a swarthy, furtive appearing man. A leather jacket and a slouch hat protected him from the wind, while the side curtains prevented the rain from entering. Nightfall and the cloak of fog permitted him to see only a few feet of the road ahead and made it a dif- ficult task for him to keep the road. To Norman the approach of the car was not known until the sound of the horn caused him to turn quickly. The pattering of the rain and the howling of the wind had swept out the sounds of the approaching vehicle, so that the warning came too late. Before Norman had time to spring aside, he was struck by the car. Bright flares of intense light flashed before his eyes and the last audible sound to reach his ears were those of a cursing man. II An observer sailing along the New England Coast could not fail to note the abundant supply of small rudely built shacks which had originally been built by the “Old Salts.” who used them to store their nets and other fishing acces- osries. Some were occupied by lone fish- erman. As the years passed, the original owners of them had disappeared and the buildings had been left to decay. But twenty years after the opening of the twentieth century, a few of the more re- mote and well hidden ones were devoted to a new use. Organized gangsters found these to be excellent posts from which to ply their nefarious trade. Contraband liquors received from schooners were cached in various of these and removed under cover of night, to their final des- tinations. It was in one of these cabins just de- scribed that Norman regained his senses. Minutes passed before lie could get his bearings. His mind was in a maze and his brains refused to work. Everything was topsy-turvy and the rude bed on which he lay seemed to be swaying in un- 103 earthly motions. As full consciousness was restored and his mind became clear- er. a realization of what had happened came to him. Where was he? Who had brought him there? Slowly he attempted to raise himself, but the pains which shot through his entire system changed his de- sire to do so and with a groan he settled back. His next step, that of voicing his return to earth, was an equal failure for the sound of a man’s gruff voice distinct- ly familiar silenced him. “I tell you, Bill, we’ll wait till the boss gets back, and then find out what to do with this guy. One of us ought to get him to a doctor.” “Aw rats, don’t get so chicken heart- ed. You remember the boss said we ain’t to budge from here till he shows up. Be- sides, the boss usta be a janitor in a hos- pital once. Maybe he can do something for him. Only next time you bump some- one. don’t bring him along.” “Shut up. That’s nothing to fool about. Bill, you ain't got no heart.” “I know it, you can’t have a heart in this game. I wish that doggone rain would stop. I hate to go out on such a bad night as this. Besides I’ll betcha a good drink the schooner don't show up to- night. The weather’s too rough.—Well, lets get out and see if we sec any signals yet. The boss says this is goin’ to be a big haul.” A door slammed as the two men left the cabin. Norman was left to himself in the dark room. So that was where he had land- ed ! A bootlegger’s hangout! What a fine predicament to be in. To do some- tiling and that immediately was the is- sue before him. Attempts to rise resulted in severe pains. Oh, if he had not let his temper overcome him. But remorse does not help when the deed is done. Nor- man’s only choice was to wait. The room in which he lay was almost THE TECH REVIEW

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1928 THE TECH REVIEW 105 Neither leg was broken for he could move them. To raise himself to his feet was the hardest task of all. By sheer nerve he finally succeeded in standing. A cold sweat gathered on his forehead. Two painful steps took him to the dimly out- lined table, on which he leaned for sup- port. The pains were almost unbearable. Three paces separated him from the door to the other room. Still using the table for support, Norman took another step forward, sliding his hands across the ta- ble’s surface. His hands touched a cold object. Norman grasped the object. Joy! for there was the means of salvation. For in fact, not one but two revolvers lay on the table. Norman was satisfied with one. 'I'he two remaining steps brought him to the door. A crack between two boards served as a peep hole to get the -o- cation of the men in the next room. 'I'he light at first blurred his vision, but, grad- ually becoming accustomed to it. he dis- cerned the men grouped around the gun. Spang!—Spang!—Spang! In rapid suc- cession the projectiles shot while one maneuvered the machine so as to rake the forest. “Say, I wonder how the kid’s getting along.’’ The black eves of one of them were looking directly at him. Of course, a petition was between them. “Why don’t ya go in and find out?’’ Norman’s heart stood still. “Heck, no. I’m not that interested.’’ He wasn’t hey! Well he certainly would be in a short while. The time for action was at hand. To grasp the knob, swing the door open, and cover the men with the gun was but the work of few moments. Yet to Norman the task seemed slow. His numl ed muscles refused to act quickly. But in fact it was done in no time. The men turned to face a very pale but de- termined person. Norman’s command of “Don’t move” was unnecessary for the men were stupefied. Then as the amaze- ment passed and their senses returned, the four jumped to their feet. A report of Norman’s revolver, however, prevented them from doing anything rashly. “Now do just as I tell you and keep your hands where 1 can see them. One of you hail the officers. Shout to them that you surrender. Hurry!” After a few moments of hesitation, the leader reluctantly hailed the officers and acknowledged his defeat. “Good. Now tell them that you’re go- ing to file out the door.” 'I'he door was opened and the gangsters marched out into the powerful beams of searchlights. When all four were out, Norman gave a sigh of relief and dragged his body to the door and out into the wet night. There his strength failed him and with a sickening sensation, Norman felt himself being carried down, down, down. Then he know no more. Ill When Norman regained consciousness the second time, lie found himself at home in his bed. Beside him stood his mother. Tears filled her eyes and a wor- ried expression dominated her face. On seeing that his eyes were open, a smile crept through her grief and she stooped to imprint a kiss on his forehead. “Mother” was his only word. His head throbbed with pain, and the aches of his body felt more numerous and intense. In spite of all, the joy of lieing home acted as a soothing balm and Norman relapsed into slumber. He knew not how long he slept, but when he awoke again he was alone. To his surprise, he found that his left arm was encased in a plaster cast. His aches, however, were almost entirely gone and his mind and body felt refreshed. My how good it felt to be home! Norman never realized what home meant until then. Had he been such a fool as to think of running away ?