Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THe Golden Rod guarded so there you are.” The three men sat silent for a long time,the leader still resting his chin in his hand. At length,arousing himself with a perceptible start from the reverv in which he had fallen,he raised his head and exclaimed “If I thought you fellows had the nerve,I’d tell you a way of getting out of this fix.” “All you’ve got to do is to name it, pard,” drawled the slim one, lazily shifting his quid of B. L. to an opposite position. “You’ll find Joe and me aint such a bad lot if there’s promise of any profit coming.” “That needn’t worry yuh none.There'll be profit enough if you fellers stick by me. Listen! The Overland Express comes by at 8:45 and stops for two minutes at the Three Rivers Crossing to take in water” “Well,” put in Joe, “I’m hanged if I see any profit coming from that; with a good crew of train men aboard.” “You just bottle up your wisdom'till I get through,” snapped the other, angrily glancing at the offender. Now I happen to know (whe-e I found out doesn’t matter,) that there’s a special car hitched to the rear occupied by a young fellow sent out by a certain mining company to pay the boys at the “Silver U.” It won’t be hard for us to slip on the last car,which will be a special. We can then smash the door and overpower the agent, chuck him off if necessary, get the goods and dis- continue likewise.” “How? by getting thrown off, too?”asked Joe ironically. “No, yuh blamed idiot, of course not. It’s mighty queer how some folks can’t understand a thing, no how.” “That may be, but how are you planning to work the stunt?” persisted the“blamed idiot.” “You just leave it to me and you’ll be all right. But what’s your verdict?” “Oh,, 1 suppose I’m with yuh,’’answered Joe grudgingly. “And you, Slim,“said he,turning to the other man. “Sure, ’’grunted the thin one, “Yuh can count on me”. “All right, then it's a bargain. I’m sure glad to see that you fellers have some sand left. Guess it’s about time we hit thc trail; here,Joe, pass me the makings.” Then with a relieved sigh, the chief turned his horses head towards the setting sun which loomed in the distance like some great giant beacon signaling the close of day. Chapter II The Overland Express had been delayed. Train dispatcher Keith,having descended from his office to investigate the delay, rushed down the platform shouting to the conductor whom he observed, as he supposed in idle conversation with a begrimed and greasy train hand. “Hurry up, Mac,”he cried, “4009 is ten minutes late in starting. What’s the matter anyhow?” Coupling broke, -sir.” replied the conductor briefly,“but we’ll be off in about two minutes.” “Well, all right, only hurry,” returned the other scowling, then turning on his heel, he stalked back to the office. This delay explains why a meeting nearly took place between the three watchers on the prairie, when at 8:45 the headlight of the express was not in sight. About this time the Overland was speeding over a level’stretch of country, trying to make up lost time.shooting sparks heavenward in a fountain of light, then dropping them amid the sage brush along the side of the track.The porters were making ready the sleepers for the women and children while the most of the male passengers were sitting in the smoker, quietly enjoying their cigars, or gath- ered in little knots in pleasant conversation while others sat about the tables playing cards. Suddenly as the train shot round a curve, the crossing came in sight. The engine shrieked for the brake and the long train came to a stand still. After the necessary allotment of time was over for tanking, the whistle sounded shrilly and the train started again on its way. “Now’s our chance,’’cried the short man, as the train began to move, whereupon he sprang for the platform closely followed by his two confederates. Once aboard the train, the three men lost no time in setting to work. Joe raised a heavy sledge above his head and let it fall with a resounding crash against the oaken door of the train. The first blow besides somewhat loosening the hinges of the door had the effect of simply awakening the agent out of a sound sleep. Jumping up he hurriedly grabbedhis revolver,just as the second blow landed knocking the door to fragments. At once he sprang to one side and quickly dodged behind his dcsk where'hevopcned fire vigorously,1 but owing to the darkness, he could not determine the effects of his shots.

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The Golden Rod THE GOLDEN ROD”“ staff wish to thank the pupils of the school for their kind sub- scriptions to the paper. All the contributions that were handed in, whether accepted for publication or not, were gratefully received; some contributors certainly, deserve great credit. We sincerely hope that the school as a whole will take more interest in the paper next year. The subscriptions are suf- ficient,but the material that we ought to receive in order to make the different editions more interest ing, has been lacking. Let next year’s board of editors be plentifully supplied with poems, short stories, and any articles of interest to the school. WE WOULD NOT forget to render our hearty thanks to the business advertisers who have so kindly patronized the advertising pages of our paper. HE GOLDEN ROD prizes were awarded as follows:— First Prize............Charles Say ward 1910 Second Prize......................Ralph Ford Honor Story................ Margaret Tubman Poem...................Lewis Coombs 1910 Although the two prize stories are very similiar in their setting, both are printed in this issue. All’s Well That Ends Well T HAD BEEN a perfect day, one unusual even for Arizona. All day long the scorch- ing rays of the great yellow ball shone down unmercifully upon the sizzling alkali, send- ing the heat waves throbbing and pulsating from its parched surface. Three men sitting astride their horses could be seen just coming over the crest of a small rise, their shirts open at the neck, their sombreros tipped back from their streaming foreheads. From the distance one might mistake the men for cowboys gathering for the spring round up, but upon closer inspection .even the casual observer could per- ceive that they belonged to a rougher and more reckless class of beings. One, a short, thick set man of some forty years, bearing a scar from a stillcto over his left temple, seemed to possess the leader- ship. This was plainly discernable when upon the lifting of his hand the other two riders drew rein and gathered around in respectful silence awaiting his pleasure. At last he spoke in the gutteral accents of the Mexican halfbreed. “Boys,” said he squinting up his eyes and resting his chin in his palm,“boys,we’re about down to the last cent.” Then turning to one of his companions. “Joe, how much have we left, anyhow?” “Five dollars,’’said that worthy quickly. “Huh said the leader of the band disgustedly. “I thought as much. Not a very good showing for men in our business,eh?” The others nodded their heads in silent acknowledgment. “But that is neither here nor there.“the leader continued, “we’ve got to have money or starve and if we don’t have the money,we surely will starve. There's not one ranchman’s wife inall the country that will givea fellow a bit to eat: no sir, not one” . we’re too well known. That racket of the sheriff’s, with our pictures and descriptions has queered us all right. Haven’t any suggestions, have yer?” “Wal,” drawled the tall, slim man on his right, ‘1 suppose we might tackle another holdup or rustic a few more steers. “Yes,you’re a nice man to talk about hold-up” the leader snarled contemptuously, “the only reason we lost on the “Bar A” job, was because you put your self in the line of a stray bullet and turned squealer-- but,-— “Wal,” the tall man broke in, “I guess if--”Thc chief silenced him with a wave of the hand contin- uing, “But when it comes to cattle,what can we do with them? We can’t sell the critters, for the simple reason that we couldn’t get 'em out of the country. The fords are all watched and every trail will be

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THe Golden Rod The next thing that the agent was conscious of was the fact that he was struggling fiercely in the arms of a short, thick set man upon whom he was able to rein a few telling blows before he was forc- ed backward and overpowered by the other two. He could feel the chill night air through his thin clothing as he heard the men muttering to themselves a snarled command, or a shocking curse. Then he had a sensation of falling from long tailed comets together with a terrible sensa- 'tion of strangling. Then all was blank. Having rid themselves of the victim of their knavery,the three men lost no time in searching for their spoils. Muttered oaths and hushed exclamations were uttered, chairs were thrown about and tables over- turned as the three men strove wildly to locate the money. Suddenly with a glad cry, Joe reached behind the desk and extracted a box nearly a foot square, marked ........Pay Master....... Robert H. Weatherbee, U. S. .M C. By this time the train was distant three miles frcm the crossing. “Here’s where we vacate,” said Slim, and stret- ching his arm he gave the signal cord three sharp yanks. Immediately the air was applied.wheels ground against brakes, passengers were thrown forward in their seats, trainmen grabbed lanterns and ran down the steps of the still moving train to peer into the night, while the desperadoes, dropping their box from rear platform,followed quickly after it. The panting engine came to a final jarring halt some hundred yards from where the men left it. but the three desperadoes had long ago been swall- owed up in the night. The train men entered the occurence merely as a loose coupling, until they found the agent missing, which was not until the next morning. CHAPTER III The next day when Bob Weatherbee opened his eyes and again t x k up the cares and worries of this world, it was a far different situation than that to which he had been accustomed. His comfortable bunk in the car was substituted by the rough sand and gravel near the road bed, his bureau and table were replaced by sagebush and buffalo grass while small sand hummocks stood wher the chairs should have been; everything seemed unnatural. Im- pressed by the silence, Bob wondered if the train had again stopped for water. He called loudly for Sambo, his colored porter, but his only answer was the yelp of a coyote skipping across the plain. A couple of little prairie dogs, sitting on their haunhes in the sun dodged back within their retreat. Then silence again reigned supreme. The next time that memory returned to Bob, he heard someone approaching; could it Ik the porter? No, for no porter had a voice like that. The sound came nearer - stopped - it seemed at his very side. The dazed man opened his eyes and beheld a young girl clad in the rough riding habit of the ranch. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen; her eyes were tender and full of compassion, and she had such a captivating smile! Ah! it was the smile that did it. Bob seemed as if in a trance, unable to look away from this creation of loveliness. In one hand the girl held a waterpail, in the other she grasped the reins of a bg bay horse. At last, the sight of the girl, his natural surroundings, the strangeness and still- ness of it all, brought Bob back to his senses with a start. He remembered the shooting.the fight with the thick-set man, the cries of his companions, then- oblivion. He started to raise himself on his elbow,but fell back again with a low moan. Where- upon his fair companion knelt at his side saying:-- ' I'm so glad to see you are better. I thought you were gone that time, sure.” “You are very kind,” murmured Bob. “Now just lie quiet for a spell,” she continued, not heeding the interruption, “while I go fetch Pa and the buckboard along with some liniment. Now don’t try to move, please.” • And she hurried away. Movc;not he. He would lie there indefinitely if it was not more than to keep the memory of her before him. At any rate he felt too weak to protest, so he patiently waited for Pa and the buckboard and,— but here Bob’s mind again became a blank CHAPTER IV Two weeks later Bob Weatherbee was reposing on a comfortable bed in the ranch of Mr. Samuel Plan turn. During all of his sickness, Florence Plan turn had taken the best possible care of her patient, sitting with him in his delirium and min- istering to his every need. In a few day.