Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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Peter: (despairing) We’re too heavy—if it were only one of us—! (abrupt pause) John: (incredulous, then fearful)—Peter! Don’t hit me—I'll fall! (sharp with fear) Peter!! Peter: (snarling tensely) You’re a magician—disappear! BIZ: THUD OF BLOW, THEN THUD OF FALLING BODY. FIGHT- ING AND SNARLS OF PACK OVER JOHN; HIS CRIES, MUFFLED. FADE IN HORSE AND SLEIGH BELLS, THEN FADE TO: MUSIC: AGITATO FROM “PRELUDE IN C SHARP MINOR”— RACHMANINOFF; FADE. Peter: (on cue) . . . and then the sleigh hit a rock and John was gone. It was terrible. The pack was on him before he could move. He screamed once . . . Walter: It’s horrible to think of, Peter, even here in New York, in this modern apartment of yours. Peter: It’ll be a long time before I forget it. (pause) Why not stay a while longer, Walter? Walter: Sorry, Peter, but I’ve got to get down to work. I go on at one. Peter: (laughing) One in the morning! What an hour to go to work! (off mike) Here’s your coat. Walter: Thanks, (slightly off mike) What’s this, Peter? A social lock on the door? Peter: (quickly) Yes,—er—I keep some valuable Chinese jades here. Walter: (lightly) Oh! Well, see you later, Peter, (off mike) ’night! Peter : Good night, Walter. BIZ: DOOR CLOSES. FOOTSTEPS ACROSS FLOOR PETER HUMS. Peter: (to himself) Nearly midnight. Guess it’s me for lied, (pause) Bet- ter take a book, in case I can’t sleep, (hums) Where’s that switch? Ah! BIZ: SNAP OF LIGHT SWITCH. THEN, BACKGROUND, PLAC- ING BOOK ON TABLE, DROPPING STUDS ON DRESSER, ETC. Peter: (humming continues; then, on cue) Now where’s that button?—Hmm, that mirror’s awfully hazy, guess it needs resilvering.—There! Thought I’d never get it unbuttoned. Too bad I— John: (interrupting, off mike) Peter! Peter: (startled) Who said that? Was that John’s voice? John: (sternly, closer) Peter! Peter: (awed voice, fast, jerky) : That can’t be John! John’s dead!! Who are you ? Where are you ? John: (very gravely, on mike) Here. Peter, here in the mirror! Peter: (aghast) John!! John’s head! John: I’ve come back to you, Peter! Peter: (desperately) That mirror! —Got to smash it! —The book'll do it!! BIZ: CRASH OF MIRROR BREAKING. MUSIC: WILD, STORMY: FADE TO: BIZ: FOOTSTEPS ACROSS TILE FLOOR. LOW BACKGROUND, DEPARTMENT STORE. Peter: Can you tell me where the Sporting Department is? --- = page Figh t=- ■■■

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FANG OF THE WOLF A Radio Script by Roy Hutchins, ’39 A Murderer Thought He Was Safe—Until His Victim Returned THEME Announcer: The National Broadcasting Company presents the third in its series of “Unexplained Deaths”. Tonight’s story, “Fang of the Wolf”, con- cerns Peter Adams, explorer and adventurer. In the year 1925, on the vast, barren steppes of Russia, Peter Adams was riding in a horse-drawn sled with an acquaintance, John Lane, a fellow adventurer and dabbler in the occult. It was night; the light of a full moon turned the snow to silver; (fading) and Peter's pulses raced to the rhythmic beat of the horses’ hoofs. MUSIC: RUSSIAN SLEIGHING SONG; FADE TO: BIZ FADE IN SOUND OF HORSE TROTTING AND SLEIGH BELLS, THEN DOWN TO BACKGROUND. Peter (on cue): It’s a beautiful night; so peaceful and calm here on the stepj es. BIZ: HOWL OF WOLF IN DISTANCE. John : You know, Peter, that howl reminds me of India and the Himalayas. Peter: You studied magic and the occult there, didn’t you, John? John: Yes, magic always fascinated me. I’m on my way now to Sil eria. There’s an old monastery hidden in the mountains there, and certain papers I’ve found lead me to l elieve that the secret of eternal life is in a vault some- where in the place. BIZ: WOLF HOWL, NEARER. ANSWERED. Peter : I hope those fellows don’t come any closer. I left my gun at the inn. John: So did I—and they sound hungry. BIZ: HOWLING, NEARER. Peter (nervously): We’d better get back to town.—Get up, there! BIZ: HORSE CHANGES TO GALLOP. WOLF PACK CONTIN- UOUS IN BACKGROUND. John: The natives around here tell of a huge gray wolf with only one fang, who roams with his pack when the moon’s full.—(pause) Of course, it’s just an old wives’ tale. BIZ: PACK CLOSER; BRING UP GRADUALLY THROUGH REST OF SCENE. Peter: The moon’s full tonight, (crack of whip) Get up! BIZ: FASTER GALLOP. Peter: See if you can see them, John. John: (tensely) They’re just coming over the hill back there (pause, then startled) Peter! There’s a huge gray wolf leading them! Peter: (nervously) We can’t go any faster, John, the sled’s too heavy. Throw out those blankets, they may stop to tear them up. (pause) John: (fast, excited) They’re only a few yards behind; they’ll have us in a minute! (slower, with emphasis) Peter, the leader has-only-one-fang! BIZ indicates sound effects. Sergw= ■ - ■ - T........- - =

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Clerk: Five aisles to the left through that end door, sir. Peter: Thank you. BIZ: FOOTSTEPS, AS ABOVE. FADE IN CLICKING OF DOG’S NAILS ON FLOOR, IN STEP WITH PETER. Peter: (on cue) What’s that noise, a dog? (footsteps and clicking stop: pause) Don't see any. (pause; footsteps and clicking resume) That sounds like a dog —a dog following me. Flooncalker: (anxiously, fading in) Are you hurt, sir? (footsteps and clicking stop) Peter: (sharply) Of course not! What’s the matter? Flooncalker: Why, that blood on the floor behind you, sir. There’s a trail of it where you’ve walked, and I thought— Peter: (amazed) Blood? BIZ: BRING UP BACKGROUND CROWD GRADUALLY, EXCITE- MENT MOUNTING. Floorwalker: See, sir, right where you walked! Peter: But I’m not bleeding; I’m not hurt! Flooncalker: Then— BIZ: CROWD UP FULLY, HOLD TO STRONG BACKGROUND. LOW GROWL. Peter: (tensely) What’s that? Flooncalker: A dog! Peter: But where? CROWD: EXCLAMATIONS AND MURMUR. “WHAT’S GOING ON?”, ETC. BIZ: SNARL. WOMAN’S SCREAM. CROWD: “WHAT’S THE MATTER?” “THAT WOMAN’S FAINT- ED!” “LOOK!!” “AGAINST THAT COUNTER! “WHERE?” “WHAT?” “LOOK, IT’S A DOG’S HEAD!” “OUTLINED AGAINST THE COUNTER!” “MAD DOG!” “IT’S A WOLF!!” Peter: (horrified) There's-onlv-one-fang!! CROWD: SCREAMS, SHOUTS, ETC. Flooncalker: (amazed) It’s vanished! Sir, I— (fading) Why, where did he go? MUSIC: “TRAUMEREI”—SCHUMANN. Peter: (His voice is quick and nervous throughout this scene) Well, Walter, what’s new ? Walter: Good brandy! —Nothing much Peter, I hear there was some sort of a disturbance— Peter: (interrupting) Yes, I heard about that; foolish story. Walter : I agree, what would a wolf be doing— Peter: (interrupting) Certainly; mass hysteria. Walter: Man, this chair is comfortable, (pause) Strange lighting you have here, Peter. All the light’s in the center of the room, and the corners are black as pitch. Peter: Yes, I had it specially designed; the whole apartment's done in the same style. --] tge Mine -----------