Racine High School - Kipikawi Yearbook (Racine, WI)

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HI I HS I Didn't I say once that Michabelles is deadl Besides I have looked closely many times at my dear sister. And he stalked from the room hastily. But once outside he stopped. Why was this nephew of his bringing him such a queer message? He felt a strong im- pulse to look at the picture, but he did not wish to have lohn think that he was even interested in it. After a few moments of hesitancy, he crept up the steps softly, turned into the blue room, and stood before the portrait on his desk. He had often looked at this picture and had never seen anything unusual. But now he turned it over, sideways, and then up side down. As he did so a small note, which had probably been lodged between the portrait and the frame, fell out. He opened the note and with a gasp recognized the hand-writing of his lost friend. You have refused to allow me to see you and so I gained admission here thru one of the servants. Please forgive the intrusion, but when you read you will understand. I feel that I am to be called soon, but before I go, I wish to explain where I got the money which you thought was yours. Oh, if only we could undo it alll After that terrible quarrel, I could think of nothing but your falsity to me. I found myself writing a book in which you figured as a man with a black heart. I did not mean it for publication, but a friend of mine read it, and per- suaded me to have it published. I had no money, accordingly I was forced to do something. I published itl Although it brought me more money than any of my other books, I regretted it the moment I had done it. The world did not know who the Black Heartnwas, but I did, and I could not bear to tell you that I had received the money by pub- lishing such a book. If friends had al- ways been true, what different lives both of ours would have been. I forgive. Michabelles. U Clabburn slipping into a nearby chair, covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook with emotion, and he murmured, I also forgive. That night as Iohn Carleton sat dozing near an open window, he saw, or thought he saw, the figure of a man standing in front of him. The moon shone on the pale, contented, and happy features of a middle-aged man. He extended his hand toward Carleton as if to shake hands. Then, the apparition faded slowly from sight until only a pale and smiling face was left to sink into the velvet depths of night. Rosa MANTEL1., '22. The Zlliarantula The great, copper-colored clouds that had arisen in the West covered the vast, white, burning flame which had been shining on an ancient jewel in its red setting of blasted, withered plateaus and volcanic spurs. The advancing storm clouds presently covered the whole sky, and the old castle seemed perched on the great crater's edge. It was entirely surrounded by the flaming lava. The crumbling ruins were silhouetted against the sky, like a piece of ebony against burnished gold. A bloody haze over- hung the desert and cast a sinister gloom upon the gnarled rocks and twisted cacti which seemed to be writhing and bleeding in their agony. The copper cloud suddenly changed to a furious, black, rolling mass. The red world be- came steel gray, and took on a lowering aspect. The desert, while it waited for the hated visitation of the storm, was silent. As the storm broke and the clouds let loose their thousand furies, a swarthy man began his climb up the rough lava slope. A great Panama sombrero shaded his eyes, and his loose white pantaloons fluttered in the wind. He was slowly moving towards the castle which rose up before him. As the lightning flashed across the sky and the thunder rolled among the peaks, the man quickened his steps towards the ruins. Suddenly, borne on the ozone-filled air and echoing above the roaring of the struggling ele- ments, came an unearthly scream. The swarthy man stopped and his bronze face

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KI I Q KD present? He felt absurdly foolish and yet he was determined to carry the thing through. He heard no sound in the room save the rapid beat of his own heart. After a few moments he repeated the question. This time as if in answer to his question, he heard a slight rustle above his head, saw a paper on the desk move toward him and stop directly in front of him. He picked up a pencil and held his hand over the paper. Then slowly and involuntarily he felt his hand move. At -first he saw only scribbling, then the pencil began to form letters. He let his hand be guided until he felt it stop. Then he read, Whom would you see? He drew in his breath quickly and with a hand that was shaking wrote, Michabelles. Immediately he heard another rustle and felt a breath of air on his cheek. His hand reached involun- tarily for the pencil and again he per- ceived that writing was bein formed on the paper: This is Michaielles. See Iames W. Clabburn, Argyll House, Southend. And what shall I say to my uncle? murmured Carleton surprised. The answer came, Tell him to look carefully at the portrait of his sister whom he so loves-the one on his desk in the blue room. His hand ceased writing. The silence in the room hung heavily on Carleton. It was the deep, solemn silence that clothes the world in the heart of the night and makes people feel the presence of unknown beings. Two days later found Carleton in his Uncle Clabburn's study, eager to clear up this strange matter. After prelimi- naries were over, Carleton shifted his feet, cleared his throat, and with an attempt at composure settled back in his chair. Er-Uncle, did you ever happen to know a man by the name of Micha- belles?,' His uncle's eyebrows contracted. Did I? The scoundrel-he cost me 510,000-the dirty thiefl Don't men- tion this subject again. The last was said in a commanding tone. But you must tell me. I've a message for you after you tell me all you know. What's this! How-who-how do you know anything of this? Have some of his friends been trying to make you think I'm the crook? I'd like to wring their necks. He clinched his fists to- gether and brought his foot down heavily. Calm yourself, uncle, and tell me all about it. You wonit be sorry.U Although he grumbled something about its being none of Carleton's busi- ness, nevertheless he proceeded to give a short account of his relations with Michabelles. Well, he and I were good friends once. Then Igwell, Ifwasn't true to him on one occasionfidiot that I was- and he went away broken hearted and too stubborn to accept my apologies. He tried to make a living by writing, and like most of those poor fools, he became poverty stricken. A few months after the quarrel, 310,000 worth of bonds dis- appeared from my safe. The same night it disappeared, I saw Michabelles sneak- ing around town. Nloreover, later as I got into hard straits, he began to have money mysteriously coming in. I never had any proof against Nlichabelles, but I could swear that he took that moneyl He refused to tell me where he got his. The bonds were never heard of. Con- found himl He let his head fall into his hands and sat silently shaking it, casting dark glances at his nephew now and then. Carleton watched his uncle eagerly and noted the queer expression on his face. Then he said slowly and with great calmness, I talked with Nlichabelles personally night before last, Uncle. Nonsense, boy, he died last year, snapped the uncle. Paying no attention to the outburst, Carleton continued in a hoarse whisper, He said that you should look closely at the picture ofyour sister which is on your desk in the blue room. Clabburn started and rose uneasily. Are you trying to make me angry?

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HI I HQ I turned as pale as death. His knees swayed beneath him, but he seemed by some supernatural force to move for- ward. Crouching down, he looked through the door of the ruins and into the gloom within. In the light from the fire in the stone chimney he could see a huddled form upon the floor. The life blood still ran from a wound upon her forehead, and her head rested in a pool of blood upon the stones. Her gray, tender eyes were icy with the stare of death, and her withered form could be seen through the rents in her clothing. One arm was bent back in an odd fashion that showed it had been wrenched from the socket by a cruel grasp. The marks of fingers could be seen upon her feeble neck. Towering over her, stood an evil-faced brutefthe murderer. A fiendish smile was upon his sneering lips as he played with his booty, a crucifix which contained three large diamonds. From beneath a great coin-trimmed sombrero his eyes glowed with the blood lust, and when he moved, his silver spurs jingled at the high heels of his riding boots. Two guns swung loosely at his belt and told his business. A shudder ran through the frame of the observant man as he stepped back from the doorway. He had loved his mother dearly, in his own odd way, and now she was murdered. His eyes glowed with hate, and his finger nails cut deep into his palms. Revenge would be his, but not now. His was the cunning and stealth of the red man, and not the bold, fearless methods of the white. The swarthy native drew back with a shudder and disappeared in the sheltering ruins to bide his time. Hours went slowly by, and as the storm passed over, the wan, crescent moon came forth and cast its weird light down upon the ruins. In a small room in the midst of the castle the bandit slept. The moon-light fell through a tiny window upon his face which was bloated from intoxicants. Presently, the shadow of a strange, oddly-shaped creature fell upon him. Slowly the weird. writhing shape came into view, and even more slowly did it move to- ward him. The sticks that held it were moving imperceptibly toward the eyes of the drunken, sleeping thief and mur- derer. Gradually the sticks opened and the tarantula settled upon his eyes. The room was as quiet as only the desert can be. The silence was like the van- guard of death. The murderer moaned and rolled onto his side. Outside, a great sand owl sent its quivering cry across the waste. The moon disappeared behind a cloud, and in the darkness a cold-blooded laugh rang out. The taran- tula's work was done. KENNPITli C. KEHL, '22, vtllfn JN 'J ' V