Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROD Alleghanies and the Smoky Range, perchance you would find a stalwart young woodsman whose only companion would be a wrinkled old Indian. This is “Boy” and the “Chief” dwell ingtogether beneath the shade of the mighty forest, and waiting the call of the Great Spirit to the happy hunting ground, where once again they will be “Old John Dean.” the “Chief.” and “Boy.” R. II. Marden, ’09. Chums “I know it’s hard luck, Red, but what is the use of worrying now. when the game doesn’t come off until next week? Why. mv boy, you can't tell what will happen in that time. I’m liable to break a leg Bob Carroll----” The reason why “Babe” Cushing stopped so suddenly was not that breath failed him, but a good sized pillow from the bed. upon which Herbert (Red) Redding was sitting, came whirl- ing through the air. and striking him squarely on the chin prevented him from finishing his sentence. “Red” followed up his successful attack by tipping his surprised roommate over, chair and all. and sitting on that much-abused individual’s head. “Now. young man. no more of that kidding from you. I am going to make that team if I have to beat you out.” With this declaration of war he left his seat and allowed his van- quished enemy to regain his feet. Herbert Redding, better known throughout Sumner Academy only as “Red” on account of his bright red hair. had. since the opening of school in September, one great ambition con- stantly in mind. This, no doubt, the reader will think was to be a lawyer, as his mother fondly hoped he would make, or a doctor, which his father was and wanted him to become. But it was neither of these. 11 is one great desire was to make a position on the Sumner Academy foot- ball team and play in the big game of the year, that against Sumner’s greatest rival. Hastings Preparatory School. Redding had entered Sumner Academy four years before this time and hoped to graduate the following June. The two preceding seasons he had attempted to gain a place on the school foot-ball eleven and had failed. lie had come to Elmwood in September more determined than ever to win a place on the team. The reason for his failure the year before had been, not lack of ability or grit, but his size. Redding weighed only one hundred and twenty- five pounds and this by the coach Walter Ramey, an old graduate of Sumner, was con- sidered altogether too light to put up against the heavy team which Hastings always brought out. With the few pounds extra weight which he had acquired during the summer Redding felt that his chances this fall were good. His three year’s experience, together with his knowledge of the game, won for him a place at half- back on the team during the preliminary season. Redding had lost his room-mate the preced- ing year, that inconsiderate young man having graduated. Thus, on the second day after the opening of school, a youth, six feet tall, with massive shoulders, and an extremely good na- tured and good looking face, strode into Redding’s room and announced that his name was John Cushing and that he was Redding's new room-mate. From that day on Redding and his huge room-mate were inseparable friends. Cushing early acquired the nickname “Babe” which up to this time had clung to him. The students not satisfied with christening the two individually called them the “Heavenly Twins.” Cushing had tried for and easily made the position of half-back on the school team. He was, in fact, the strongest player on the Sumner Academy team and great things were expected of him in the big game against Hastings. Redding’s Waterloo came when one fine morn- ing toward the last of October a finely built youth presented himself on the foot-ball field and

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THE GOLDEN-ROD was it that could move him so terribly? lie had been searching the far away hills with the glass, but he moved it so that it pointed down into the valley and as he looked through it. he saw a terrible scene enacted before his eyes down by ‘'No Man’s Creek. ” He saw Old John Dean stricken by a blow just as he was about to take the gold from its hiding place. He saw. too. that while one of the two men dragged out the treasure, the other picked up the boy and started on a run for the camp. Without a word the Chief turned down the mountain side; faster he went until the rocks rolling under foot failed to keep pace with him in his rapid flight. The men left on the mountain lookd through the transit and saw only poor old Dean’s body huddled against the tree where he had been robbed of his tresaure. So forsaking the glass they turned their atten- tion to the men whom they plainly saw now, and to the Indian keeping up his headlong flight down the mountain side. But before the Chief had covered a third of the distance they saw the men throw the boy into a canoe and paddle off down the river. Knowing that the Indian would give his attention to the robbers they made their way toward the place where Dean was lying. Reaching the camp the “Chief” saw that the men had taken the canoe and headed down the river. Plunging into the rushing waters he quickly crossed with swift, sure strokes to the opposite bank. Around the bend, close under the bank he kept his own light, birch canoe. With a shove he was in midstream. Faster and faster he sped on. his slight craft leaping like a live thing under the impetus of bis powerful strokes. As the morning wore on into the afternoon and miles sped by. the steady flash of his dripping paddle as he dipped it first on one side then on the other, was all that disturbed the peace of the great river. Ever faster went the Indian down the river. Muscles slipped back and forth beneath his bronze skin which was glistening now as the sun shone on the perspiration forced from every pore by his ceaseless working of the paddle. Unbending and doggedly he clung to the trail of the murderers and kidnappers. Near the close of the day he heard ahead of him curses; then the splash of paddles. Re- doubling his efforts until the canoe fairly flew along the darkening waters of the river, he came in sight of their canoe. Swiftly, silently, he bore down upon them, never swerving from his course, always with his straining eyes fixed upon one object, the child, which he could now see lying in the bottom of the canoe. The robbers headed their canoe for the shore but as their craft grounded on an outreaching bar of land, the Indian was upon them. Straight at them he sprang, his light bark ca- reening out into the current under the force of his spring. A flash, a groan. The chief turned to meet the second foe bearing upon him knife in hand. Cat-like they circled each other and then, one silently, the other with a snarl of hate and rage, they grappled. Back and forth, swaying, crashing over the rocky ground, they fought. The “Boy” stood near by, his hands clenched,, his eyes afire. Benumbed he seemed, but sud- denly darting to the side of the fallen man, he snatched the knife from his hand and hastened towards the struggling forms now- growing dim in the dusk. The white man’s strength was fast leaving him, when the Indian, slipping on the smooth stones was taken off his guard. Down came the white man’s knife, but quicker still was the little arm which shot up between the struggling men and buried to the hilt the knife in the murderer’s throat. The downward plunge of the white man’s knife was stopped and as he fell limply against the chief, the Indian flung the body from him far out on the rocks, where it lay an inert mass never more to pollute the pure haunts of nature with its presence. The Indian sank to his- knees and drawing the now trembling boy to him, he held him close with all the tender softness of a mother. The “Chief” had repaid old John Dean’s kindness, long forgotten by all but the Indian, and had revenged his death. And today should you take a trip into the-

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THE GOLDEN-ROD announced himself to Ramey as a candidate for the back field. Robert Carroll, for this was his name, had entered Sumner a week before this time. The new candidate proved his worth as a player from the very beginning and with his weight and all-round foot-ball ability was slowly but surely winning a place on the team. To his dismay Redding realized that if any one in the baekfield must make way for Carroll, it would be he himself, as Cushing and Hamil- ton. the captain, with Winslow, a veteran of two seasons, were playing the other positions. A week before the game with Hastings. Walter Ramey, the coach, with much regret, for he admired Redding’s pluck and determination, decided that it would be best for the team, to have Carroll in the baekfield. lie did not reach a decision until he learned that Hastings had an exceptionally heavy team that year. Cushing was at the opening of the story try- ing to console his rather discouraged roommate when his sympathizing words were rewarded in the manner described. Thanksgiving morning dawned clear, but un- usually cold. As the rival teams left the gym- nasium of Sumner Academy in the large barges for the field of battle, the sound of the cheering of the rival student bodies could be heard dis- tinctly. After a slight warming up practice and final instructions from their coaches, the teams lined up for the struggle. Sumner’s rather light team very soon dis- covered that the reports of Hastings’ having an unusually heavy eleven were wholly true. Her team was kept continually on the defensive in the first half and if it had not been for the wonderful punting of “Babe” Cushing, the re- sult would have been a large score in favor of Hastings at the end of the first period of play. As it was. Hastings, amid the exultant shouts of her adherents, scored a touch down toward the last of the half. Her over confident full-back missed an easy goal, for which he was extremely sorry after the game. The second half began with Hastings more confident than ever and Sumner determined to keep the score at least as it was. “Babe” Cush- ing had told Redding that he would surely get a chance to play part of the time, thereby getting the coveted “S.” Redding realized as he saw Sumner going down to defeat and Carroll play- ing a star game that his chances were very slim. These gloomy thoughts were quickly dispelled when in a second he was up on his feet yelling and waving a purple sweater. For Hamilton breaking through Hastings’ line had gained twenty yards and Carroll had followed with a run around Hastings’ left end for fifteen more. The Sumner side of the field was a mass of waving color. But the purple jerseys of the Sumner backs were unable to penetrate further through the heavy line of Hastings. After a consultation, Cushing was seen stand- ing ten yards from the centre. In a moment the ball came back to him and he sent it sailing over the enemy’s goal by a beautiful drop-kick from the forty yard line. The cheering had not yet subsided when the two teams again lined up for the kick-off. The score was now 5-4, in favor of Hastings, and Sumner still had a fighting chance. Sumner received the kick-off and by a series of forward passes and line plays worked the ball to the middle of the field. An on-side kick luckily recovered by Sumner’s left end brought the ball to Ilasting’s thirty-five yard line. Hamilton, seeing that this was the last chance to win. called on his team for a supreme effort. Aided by Carroll and Cushing, he began an ir- resistible advance through the heavy Hastings forwards. On the ten yard line the Hastings’ line would not give an inch. Cushing, in getting up after having tried an ineffectual plunge squarely into the huge Hastings’ guard, happened to see “Red” Redding jumping up and down on the sideline. Two more unsuccessful tries were made by the exhausted backs of Sumner Acad- emy and Cushing, lying on the ground, heard, with a sinking heart, the referee call out “Hast- ings’ ball, first down.” He thought of “Red” and then made apparent efforts to get up from the ground. In a moment Hamilton was at his side, “I guess it’s my left knee. Bill.” said Cushing. With much effort he stood up, and