Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROI) inured. “For you and Rockridge, Bee.” The next afternoon found a large crowd assembled in the High School gym. The blue and white of Rockridge was everywhere evident except in one corner where about fifty Wilistor fellows shook their black and yellow banners and kept the High .School crowd busy answering their yelling and singing. At three forty five the referee’s whistle sound- ed and the teams lined up. Again the whistle blew, the ball shot into the air and the game was on. There was no scoring for the first five min- utes. Then Whitmarsh getting the ball, in the centre, tried for a goal and caged it. A wild shout from the High School crowd was almost immediately followed by a roar from Wiliston. for Drake, the right forward, re- ceiving the ball dodged Raynor and shot a goal. In a few minutes Drake scored again and Wilis- ton continued to score until at the end of the first half the score stood 12 to 2 in their favor. At the start of the second half McCraigan’s coaching showed itself, for the high school players started in with a rush and for a few moments all was confusion. About this time,however, Whit- marsh began to see that something was wrong. He noticed that the other team seemed to know just what every play was going to be. He called time and under pretence of tying his shoe string, whispered a few instructions to Ricker. A sig- nificant gesture as he passed to his position let the other members of the team understand the change in signals. The game went on. Bud raised his hand to the leftside of his neck. The ball was tossed and all the opposing players rushed to the right as before, but the ball shot to the left and Whitmarsh passed it back to Ricker who caged it. Again it was tried and two more points were added. The score stood twelve to six and seven minutes to play. Could they get three more and tie, or four and win? A foul gave them another point. Six minutes to play. Another foul by Paul and the score stood 12 to 8 against them. Only three minutes to play. There was a mix-up in the centre, the ball was passed down to Brown who twisted it out of his hands just as Drake his opponent crashed into him. They fell to the floor while the ball fairly twisting its way upward to the bas- ket, struck the edge, hesitated, started out and gently dropped back through the net to the wait- ing arms beneath. The shouting had not ceased however, before Paul dashing down the floor, caught the ball from the tipp off and while in the air shot. The ball went into the basket clean and the score stood 12 to 12. The stamping and yelling now made it impossible to hear the rush of the players and they appeared as so many machines gliding noiselessly over the floor. There was one minute left and the straining players were nerved to the last notch of endurance for this final sixty seconds. Suddenly the ball went whirling through the air and hitting the bank dropped through the basket. Rockridge had won, and it had remained for Bud Ricker to complete the most sensational of games, with by far the best play of the day. He had wrested the ball from the opposing centre and duck- ing under his arm shot one handed from his position at centre. Bud Ricker ap- pologi .ed, the game had been won, and it now remained for Whitmarsh to find the person who had betrayed their signals. That night, a crazy, cheering, body of students returned to Rockridge to celebrate, and for a time the incident of the signals was driven from the captains mind. The next day. however, meeting Raynor at recess, Whitmarsh told him bluntly, that he thought he had done it because of his continued animosity toward him. He got no satisfaction from him and they left each other, Whitmarsh unconvinced, and Raynor exceedingly angry at being suspected A week later the whole school assembled at a reception to the victorious five. Dancing was in full swing and everyone seemed to be enjoying himself. Toward the end of the evening, Whit- marsh was standing alone in a cool dimly lighted hall.when he heard footsteps. Arriving opposite him, they ceased and in the half gloom he rec- ognized Raynor. “Say, Jack,” began Raynor, “I have something to say to you. I have been a fool and hope you’ll be generous enough to let it pass. I have found out how those signals reached Wiliston. You know that girl you took to the dance a few weeks ago? It was about her that I was so unreasonably jealous. Well, Drake who played forward on the Wiliston team, has been keeping company with her. I was up at

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THE OOLDEN-ROD urally disappointed over it and declared that one class at least would graduate from Rockridge with no reception by the junior class. It was to beheld the Friday after the meeting, which oc- curred Monday. Before the dance a basket ball captain was elected. The team consisted of Whitmarsh captain, Ricker, Brown, Paul, and Raynor. Of these five Raynor was the only Junior, and so when the dance was held they all attended but him. Being a fine dancer and popular he was angry because of this and because of the slight offered his class by the seniors. Another incident made matters a great deal worse. Whitmarsh took with him a girl whom Raynor secretly admired very much. Thus was ill feeling aroused between friends and also be- tween the two classes. Two weeks after the dance everybody was full of enthusiasm, for the team had won five games by large scores. At least all were happy but the trainer. He looked worried. For he was afraid that with all this wining the team would become careless. And that is what happened. Being scheduled to play what they thought was an easy game with Weston High, Ricker attended a dance and Brown played for the Y.M. C. A. the night before. The next day they left the floor with their first defeat against them. Immediately the two offenders were sent for by McCraigan. Hot words were exchanged and Ricker was told not to report for practice until he came to the trainer and apologized. The team continued without him, despite the protests of the players to McCraigan and Mr. Brooks. Nevertheless they had lost only, two games when the time came for the big game with Wiliston Academy. During this time, however, discord on the team had been gathering greater force. Having steadily fallen off in his playing Brown had been replaced in many cases by Dryer and the team had to suffer for it. But there was more serious trouble than this. Raynor was becoming more and more hostile to Whitmarsh owing to the latter’s continued attention to the girl he had taken to the dance. Whitmarsh was ignorant of his chum’s cause for being angry and walking home with him one day he endeavored to find out the reason. “Say, Dick,” he said, “what ails you? Tell me what I have done to make you unfriendly. I wouldn’t ask it only as your chum I think you should tell me. Won’t you?” “You, my chum!” burst out Raynor, “ you! you dirty sneak. I will tell you nothing, only mind your own business.” Whitmarsh clenched his fists and his face reddened, but remembering that the meeting was of his own seeking he simply said, “I am sorry I bothered you Good night.” Thus,taken all together things looked dubious the day before the game and a feeling of gloom settled on the whole school, which no amount of work by the cheer leaders could dispel. McCraigain was sitting alone in his office. It wasonly a matter of hours before the two schools met and on the outcome depended to a great ex- tent his reputation. He was thinking how he had come there full of hope and ideas for building in the school a system which would make the school a big factor in athletics; how he had met disappointment after disappointment and now the only obstacle which stood in his way was a boy’s apology. He knew that without Ricker there was no chance of winning and he also knew that there was about as much chance of Ricker’s apologizing. Absorbed in his thoughts he did not hear the door open and was startled to hear some one close to him say, “Mr. McCraigain.” He turned and saw standing near him, the object of his thoughts. Ricker went on rapidly in his deep Southern drawl, “Mr. McCraigan, I’m sorry for anything I’ve done or said against you this past winter.” In a second the trainer was on his feet and al- though he said nothing, the silent, firm hand grasp spoke more than words and bridged a whole gulf of misunderstanding which had here- tofore existed between them. In another mo- ment the door had closed on the boy, but McCraigan still stood where he had left him. The worried look was gone from his faee and in its place was a smile. Slowly sitting down again he said, “We’ll do it. Bud.” At 10 o’clock that night, two hours earlier than his usual time for turning in, a boy threw himself on his bed. Just as his eyes closed they caught a gleam of moonlight on a photograph decked with blue and white ribbons and lie nuir-

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THE GOLDEN ROD her house several times before the game, know- ing nothing about Drake. She pretended great interest in the game and well.chum. I told her our signals, and more fool I. also showed her how every play was worked. So she could watch the games with more interest, she said. She doesn't know that I suspect her, Dick, and if it’s all the same to you, I would rather she wouldn’t for old time’s sake, will you let it drop?” “All right chum, and don’t let it bother you any more, for I shan’t. Hut one thing, don’t let a girl ever interfere with our friendship again.” As the crowd was preparing to leave at the end of the evening, five fellows, flushed and excited stood over in one corner, arms on each other’s shoulders and at a signal there rang out sharp and clear; filling the hail and floating out to the dressing rooms beyond Hullabaloo Hullabaloo Rockridge High School, White and blue, Ricker Ricker Ricker Old Laces Honorable Mention L. ELWLLL IT was a clear, frosty, October twilight and the brown English meadows with their neat hedgerous glistened with hoar frost. Great bare elm trees bordered the well kept lanes and in the background, close by the old garden stood hick fir and larch trees. The garden itself, held only the ancient sun-dial, the skeletons of the more hardy plants, and the forlorn looking flower beds now quite deserted. Nevertheless, Thorpe Park was a beautiful place as it lay there in the afterglow, and it made a charming setting for the old Manor House of the Thorpe family. The house was a great, rambling pile, entirely of grey stone, covered with still green English Ivy. It belonged to no special period of archi- tecture but seemed to be made up of different styles and enlarged at different times. It was an impressive looking dwelling and at the same time an inviting one. Within the Hall a fire was blazing in the huge fireplace at one end of the big entrance hall. Miss Cornelia Thorp, mistress of the house, had ordered tea there beside the fire, as the rest of the great house seemed chilly to the little lady. As she sat by the blaze, awaiting Alice, her niece who was out riding in the park, the old lady would have delighted an artist’s eye for she was the very picture of graceful Old Age. White curls framed the dainty shell-like face and they matched in cream-whiteness,the bit of old lace at the neck of her lavender gown. It was very quiet in the hall save for the crackling of the big logs which reflected their glow upon the rich woodwork and the old armor on the walls. Suddenly, the great front door opened and in rushed two great shaggy dogs followed by a tall, beautiful young gill in riding costume. She was a typical young English girl, fairhaired, blue-eyed and slender. The dogs kept jumping about her until she cried: “Down boys, down,” and used her riding whip with vigor. Then she crossed the room to her aunt. “Oh good! Tea so early! I am simply famished from riding in this frosty air. See my roses,” and she pointed to her flushed cheeks. “Yes, it is cold. Alice dear. Was Prince Charlie good to-day? When cousin Harry comes you will have to ride old Bess, I fear.” “Oh Prince Charlie was pretty good. He shied at a rabbit over in the south thicket, but never mind the horse. I’m interested in some- thing else. When I was coming back by the paddock bars, old Peter Hurd was there with a bundle of fagots and he opened the gate before I could get down. What do you suppose he said as I was riding through, Aunt Cornelia? It was very, very strange.” “Well dear, you must remember that Peter is very old now. Over a hundred years old you know. He is very likely to make queer remarks but you mustn’t be offended.” “I am not a bit offended. Auntie, really, but it was so strange. He looked at me and doffed