Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 7 caused him to disappear from home and friends. As she walked toward him, he wondered who she was, why she was there alone, and why Ralph, his assis- tant, had not stopped her from coming down where he was. And then he re- membered that Ralph had gone into town that day. “Hello, Mr. Duane,” called the vision. “Why, hello,” answered Duane. “But may I ask what you are doing here alone, twenty miles from town and night com- ing on? And how did you know my name?” “One at a time, please,” replied the vision. “First, I am not alone; Brother Ralph is back in camp with Mother, Dad, and Ralph’s fiancee.” Here she made a face. “And for as knowing your name, I made my brother tell me who was really in charge here because I know his shortcomings and that he hasn’t brains enough to be the chief on such a large job as this; and I should think that he would make a very poor assistant.” “On the contrary, he makes a very good one and I should be lost without him.” “No, you wouldn’t,” said Miss How- ard. “You just said that to be nice. You see I know my brother and of what he is capable.” Then, as a curious look came into her eyes, “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” she questioned. “Not that I know of. At any rate I can say that I never saw you before. If I had, I am sure I couldn’t have for- gotten such a blessing. No, I don’t think we were ever acquainted.” “I know we were not acquainted,” re- plied Miss Howard, “but I do think I have seen you before, and yet I don’t re- member ever having heard of anybody by the name of Harold Duane—still—I have it! Your name is Harold Duane Starr. You graduated from Tech about five years ago and had a position with the Southern Construction Company. “You were trusted with some very important papers which somehow dis- appeared. It was claimed that you sold them to a rival company. You were disgraced. When James Carrol was given your position, you disappeared.” A look of astonishment swept over Duane’s face as he admitted the truth of her statements with a sinking heart. He added, “Now, you see why it is given out that your brother is the chief here.” “What! don’t you know that your name has been cleared and your noble act had been known for over a year in Yuma?” “They have found out what actually happened to the papers? They know the whole story?” “Yes. About eighteen months ago James Carrol was taken sick and in his delirium he told the whole story of Marion Cartwright’s duplicity, of his scheming, and of your noble attempt at keeping the shame from Marion’s name.” “But how did you recognize me so quickly?” queried Duane. “I saw a picture of you once, and just now I picked up this as I was walking down here.” And she held up a little leather bill fold with the letters H. I). S. inscribed upon it. Duane made a hasty movement and felt of his inside coat pocket for the bill fold he always kept there, but it was gone and this girl was holding it up for his inspection. Laughing, she handed it to him. “Yes, you lost it and here it is.” All unnoticed by the two, it had grown dark and the workmen had gone back to camp. “I think you had better be returning to camp or Ralph will think you are lost,” said Duane at last. “Aren’t you coming, too?” asked Miss Howard. “I am afraid I shall not be able to find the way back, alone in the dark.”

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G THE GOLDEN-ROD were to meet. The other was a letter from the President notifying him of a directors’ meeting to be held on the first Monday of the new year and asking him to be present. Questions piled thick and fast on his mind. Should he attend the ball? Who was going to be there? Would anyone recognize him? Why was he notified of the directors’ meeting, and why was he asked to be present? Then he looked at the calendar,—ten days to get to New York and buy some decent clothes. He wrote his acceptance of the invitations, and the next day left for New York. At the ball. Duane appeared as a tall, good-looking man of between twenty-five and thirty years of age who desired to keep himself and spend most of his time in the smoking room with the men. Duane kept himself absolutely away from the ladies, and when his host chided him with being afraid of women, he answered, “I can’t dance, and I am not much of a talker, so I would be a bore to any of them; and I guess they are just as well satisfied with my keeping away.” But Duane had been noticed more than he thought, and he had caused many a pretty head there to wonder why his eyes were so hard. Some laughed and jokingly said he was a woman-hater. Not until he was back in his room at the hotel without anyone’s recognizing him did Duane breathe an easy breath. At the directors’ meeting, he was in- formed that he had been called there because the plans that he had drawn of a bridge, that was to be built across the Colorado river at a point near Yuma, Arizona, had been judged the best and that he was to be given charge of the construction. Duane asked that his assistant should be the one to meet any visitors or in- spectors that might come; that to the people around Yuma this assistant should be the one in charge; and that the fact of Harold Duane's being there should not be known. Though these requests seemed strange, they were granted and in the light of later events it was shown that Duane couldn’t be blamed. At the bridge he showed an extraor- dinary knowledge of the surrounding country that could not be gained in any way except that of daily contact for years. But he gave no explanation, and the others knew better than to ask him, though in the cabin at night when Duane was away, they often talked it over. Duane shunned all visitors and never went into town, but often when the work was going well he would saddle his horse and ride off into the desert, the other side of the river. The work went on rapidly because Duane had foreseen all hitches and had prepared for them. One afternoon, while directing some men where to put in extra braces, Duane heard a call and, turning around, he saw standing on a knoll about a hundred yards distant a vision of loveli- ness—Spring, Youth, and Love incar- nate, all incorporated in the slender body of a young lady of uncertain age. Suffice to say, she was under thirty and over sixteen. As she stood there on the knoll, the descending rays of the western sun outlined her body so that to Duane she appeared a goddess or a wood nymph or the queen of the fairies, before whom he should fall down and worship in the manner of the ancients. Then she started down the knoll toward him, and he stood and watched her come, forgetting that he did not want to be seen, forgetting that it was a woman who four years before had caused that grey mask to grow on his face, had caused the hard look in his eyes, had

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8 THE GOLDEX-ROD So Duane accompanied her, getting better acquainted every step until by the time they reached camp they were very well acquainted and felt almost like old friends. When they reached camp, Duane met Ralph Howard’s mother and father, and a little dark-eyed maid who, it was very evident, was much in love with Ralph. Duane at once liked Mrs. Howard. He had lost his own mother soon after he was born, and his father paid no atten- tion to him. except to see that he had plenty of money and was kept away from him. After Duane became dis- graced, his father had disowned him. Therefore it was only natural for Duane to like these two grey-haired parents of Ralph, to say nothing of a certain sister of Ralph’s. The Howards had planned to stay a month anyway, but as the days and weeks passed they decided to remain until the bridge was finished. When finally the bridge was formally opened and the first train passed over it, Duane noticed, but paid no attention to the fact that there was an extra car on the train that came into camp. On his return to camp, the necessity for the extra car was explained. In his cabin sat not only his father who had at last come to recognize that his son was a capable man, but many of his old friends who had come to celebrate his achieve- ment as a builder and his subsequent return home. So it was that the mystery of Duane was cleared up, and he found his friends, and in a short time—O—but that is another story. —Stuart Beal, 20. MRS. JONES PREPARES FOR TOWN Mrs. Jones was in a hurry. Nothing more need be said! Yet, as you will see, Mrs. Jones found plenty to say to her ten-year-old son. “Now, Tommie, you be sure and see that the chickens are fed at half past three, and tell Mamie to water the flower garden, as it is surely withering in the hot sun. “Get me that button hook, Tom, and don’t stand looking at me as though you were dumb. “You might tell Mary, when she comes home, to wash the dishes and dust the parlor. “That’s a good boy, now fetch me my hat-pin over there on the shelf. “Run and see if there is any mail be- fore I go.—No, I guess the mail man didn’t stop, so never mind. “Now, Tommie, don’t forget to tell the twins to change their new suits and their shoes,’’ continued Mrs. Jones while she fussed with her hair. By this time Tommie wished he had gone to school even if he did have a toothache. “Say, Ma. can I go out with the fel- lows after school?” • ‘‘Now, Tommie. I have got to run for that train so don’t bother me with ques- tions. Oh dear me! I forgot about those silk gloves Mrs. Murphy is going to let me take. They are her second best, but I know I won’t be able to see the best part of them. But run over for me. Tommie and besureand say‘Please’.” Tommie made a hurried exit, coming back in a few minutes with a pair of long silk gloves. “Well, I declare,” Mrs. Jones went on. “If I didn’t almost forget about the old alarm clock I am going to take with me. “Run upstairs and look on the bottom shelf in the closet.” After a hunt around upstairs Tommie decided he couldn’t find it. “Well, land sakes alive! You never