Reading Memorial High School - Pioneer Yearbook (Reading, MA)

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THE PIONEER teeth. “Well, you just lie right there until they get here.” Then to show the other men where he was, “Here, Bill, over here!” Within a few seconds the crew reached him and helped him to his feet. “There he is, your trainwrecker. Better help him up; he’s crying, I guess.” “Nice work, kid!” praised Bill. “You ought to get a reward for this. The railroad will probably give one, too. You know—ye gods, it’s the Super.” Eddie suddenly felt very sick, as though someone had unexpectedly kicked him in the stomach. The divi¬ sion superintendent! There went the respect, the re¬ ward, and the job all at once. The Super could actually have him put in jail for assault and battery. Golly. With these and other self-reproaching thoughts, Eddie berated himself. If he had only known. But maybe it wasn’t too late to save his job even now. While the Super’s attention was on the group of men from the train, Eddie tried to edge away toward the track. The men wouldn’t tell on him, and perhaps—His thoughts were interrupted; the Super was calling him back to take his medicine. Well, he’d show them he could take it. Some day he’d make those wise guys wipe the grins off their faces. “And now, young man, I want to make an example of you. (Eddie’s heart began to sink.) Your’s was a very foolhardy trick which had almost disastrous effects on me. You should consider yourself lucky that at the moment I could see the humorous side of the affair and laugh—-which incidentally, I was doing, not crying as you supposed. But now to get back to the point: you did jump on me. (By now Eddie’s heart had sunk completely.) In the first place, we officials saw fit to examine the wreck before we sent for the wrecking crews. As you men guessed, this mess was caused by someone’s tampering with the track, someone who, in¬ cidentally, has long since been picked up by the State Troopers. However, the reason I wish to make an ex¬ ample of this young man is to show the difference be¬ tween his vigilance and your negligence. (For the first time Eddie looked up, wondering if he had misunder¬ stood.) Although it was prompted by a justifiable de¬ sire to get home on Christmas Eve, it was still negli¬ gence. Out of all you men this lad was the only one to perceive my suspicious character and to have imagina¬ tion enough to find a way to effect my capture. He was the only one to worry at all about catching the culprit. (Eddie took his turn at grinning.) Although there is no reward out for my apprehension, Eddie, I still feel that you deserve some token of our appreciation of your wideawake attitude. Therefore, I want you to report to the office in the morning; we can always find a better place for one who really deserves it. Now I see that you’re almost overcome by my munificence, so I’ll leave before you faint on me. Goodnight, all. Merry Christ- mas. He strode away toward the engine. Every tongue seemed to be tied, but it was Eddie who first regained control of his: “Who says there isn’t any Santa Claus?” John Hilchey ADVENTURE IN THE ATLANTIC “Mr. Trotsky?” I looked up, very much surprised. Why shouldn’t I be? No one knew what my name was. Why, I had boarded this ship under the name of John Livinsky. My hand slipped up to my shoulder holster, but no, it would be of no use to resist, since I was on the high seas and could not possibly overcome all hands on an ocean liner. “Mr. Trotsky!” The voice rang out again. The first time it had had a questioning note in it; this time it was one of command. I immediately came to my senses and recognized that the man who was speaking to me was the captain of the vessel. I straightened up and answered, “Yes, sir.” “You are Michael Trotsky, are you not?” “Yes, sir, I am.” I noticed that in his hand he held a radiogram. “Michael Trotsky, I place you under arrest by or¬ der of the American Federal Bureau of Investigation. You shall be placed on board a homecoming ship on arrival at the British Isles. It will be of no avail to resist.” However, my thoughts were not of resistance now that I fully realized what his orders were. I was com¬ pletely stunned. All my work in America was destroy¬ ed. The information which I had obtained would never reach Russia. To be sure, many would not consider my occupation an honorable one, but I was and still am a patriotic citizen of Russia. I had been sent to America as a spy to secure information concerning the United States Navy. In the course of my actions, a government official had been shot, through no fault of mine. Yet, I was being sought for that very killing. Here I was, scarcely a day out on the ocean, with home and family taking up the greater part of my thoughts. Now I was to be sent to my death. The captain spoke again. “As you are on the high seas and cannot possibly escape, I give you the freedom of the ship for the rest of the voyage. You shall be treated as any other passenger until we come in sight of the Irish coast.” This was an extremely unusual procedure, for I was known to be a criminal. However, I believe that this man realized my position. He knew that the mind of a spy is not that of a hardened criminal. A gangster has no respect for anyone and breaks any law that he has a notion to break, but a spy has just one goal in view—to get information. In the course of securing it. he may break a law or two, but as soon as his job is finished, he is once more a law-abiding citizen. I thank¬ ed the captain kindly and resigned myself to my fate. In the course of the next few days, I received nu¬ merous invitations from the captain to attend dinner and other social functions with him. 1 accepted these without hesitation and became well acquainted with T welve

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CHRISTMAS 19 3 9 ing deck and at the same time heave the shining coal into the hungry maw of the firebox with such precision and regularity as he did. Finally Eddie turned from watching the untiring efforts of the fireman and the ceaseless vigilance of Bill to gaze at the flying scenery. As the wrecker had a clear track to the accident, there was no slackening of speed at any time. Towns flipped past with the same surprising suddenness with which farmhouses and barns tore by. There was not much to be glimpsed except snow and grim, bare trees; never¬ theless, it was heaven to Eddie just to be able to ride on a locomotive. If the men only knew how much this sort of job meant to him and how much he loved rail¬ roads, perhaps they wouldn’t ride him as they did. But how w ' ere they ever to find out? If he tried to tell them, they’d only laugh at him all the more. Anyway, maybe mere might be something he could do tonight to show mem. Maybe if he worked hard enough, they’d—but mok, here they were almost at the wreck. Sure enough, just one more curve, and then .... What a mess! The engine, a huge Texas type, was nearest to them, wallowing in the right of way like a great hog. Although its fires had been killed, escaping steam hissed gently from its sides making it sound more like a prehistoric monster than a modern locomotive t here, too, in the glare of the floodlights of the salvage train which had already arrived were the cars, some fifteen of them lying in almost impossible positions, piled upon each other and scattered all over the land¬ scape as though tossed about by a playful giant. Clear¬ ing up of the dreadful havoc had begun; already a good deal of work w ith the cars had been accomplished. But now wdth the arrival of the two locomotive cranes which were in Bill’s train, the most important job, that of lift¬ ing the derailed engine, would be accomplished in short order. As Bill brought the train to a stop, the work gang, including Eddie, piled out, eager to get their w ' ork done and return to their homes. From then on for four long weary hours Eddie sweated, strained, and swore; those tedious hours w r ere a nightmare, not horrible, but long to be remembered for their seeming endlessness. Heav¬ ing, lifting, pushing, crawling around under cars, shout ing orders, obeying commands—finally it all came to an end. At last the battered locomotive rested on it; own drivers, secure again upon newly laid rails. B this time, also, the lighter crane had accomplished it task, that of clearing up the cars which had been de¬ railed with the locomotive. I lie last car had bee i either set again on the rails or dumped bodily onto i Hat car. Waiting for the signal to start back, men every¬ where were resting and relaxing for a moment befoi packing up to return home. So it was with Eddie; bu. as he sat on a keg recuperating from his arduous labor his fertile mind was active, extremely so! There ha! been considerable discussion during the work concern¬ ing whether the wreck was accidental or whether sabo¬ tage had been the cause. Finally, however, the argu¬ ment had ended with the consensus of opinion that it was very probable, in view of the circumstances, that it had been caused by someone’s tampering with the rails, but that the person who had done it would be far away by now. Even as the argument had been closed, how¬ ever, Eddie’s mind was working, trying to reason out just what he would have done had he been the criminal. l ow he was still pondering this problem, his eyes star¬ ing moodily ahead. Suddenly their attention was caught and riveted to one spot. On the outskirts of the crowd which had gathered to watch the crew ' work, in fact quite a distance from the wreck, standing in the dark¬ ness surrounding the sphere of light thrown by the floodlights, there stood a dark, overcoated figure. The fellow’s sinister appearance was emphasized by his turned-up collar and his black slouch hat pulled down so as to cover his face. An alarming suspicion popped into Eddie’s mind; here, without a doubt, was the crimi¬ nal himself, returned to view his handiwork. Why else would he take such elaborate precautions against being seen? Certainly, that was it! Immediately a daring plan formulated itself in the boy’s brain. Why, if he could capture this fellow, not only would the other men respect him, but there also was the chance of the railroad’s giving him a better job! Trying to appear nonchalant, Eddie w ' alked slowly off until he was beyond the range of the lights. Then quickly he struck off the right of way down a slight embank ment to the left. This little gully he was in would conceal him until he was within about fifty feet of his quarry; from then on it would make little differ¬ ence. As rapidly and as silently as possible, Eddie W ' orked his way close up to the man, so close in fact that he could hear, through the clear night air which was absolutely still except for the hissing of the air- pumps and the subdued murmur of the crew’s voices, the mutterings of the person he intended to capture. Eddie paused a minute, resting a bit in order to get his breath before he charged. The man in the slouched hat was definitely mumbling to himself. Eddie couldn t catch the words, because they were smothered by the man’s coat collar. For a second he wondered to him¬ self if perhaps, after all, it wouldn’t be best to go back and tel l the men about it and let them do the capturing. Maybe this was a lunatic. But no! He had started it; now he would finish it. Lest he should weaken again. Eddie stood up, let out a shout of help to the crew, and dived for the man. For the next ten seconds Eddie didn ' t reall know what happened. The air seemed to be full of flying snow r , elbows, and feet. Twice his opponent got the upper hand, but each time Eddie somehow, by dint of pure grit, wriggled out of the man ' s grasp and on top again. Finally Eddie got breath enough to shout again for help. With this, the man astride whom he was sit¬ ting stopped resisting him. Instead of struggling, he lav there face down in the snow, his whole body shak¬ ing. “Oh, had enough, eh?” gritted Eddie through his Eleven

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CHRISTMAS 19 3 9 Captain Hadley. He introduced me to his friends as Count Levinsky. I tried as best I could to eat, drink, and be merry, but not many people realize what it is to know that you are soon to die. Accordingly, I was con¬ tinually moody and was not considered very good com¬ pany. The morning of our arrival at Ireland came, and my mind worked frantically to find some method of escape. The shoreline was just barely visible, and I strolled along the deck considering jumping overboard; however, numerous fins streaking along the surface of the water informed me that to jump would be fatal. I had no thought of suicide, for I have always stuck to the theqry that “While there’s life, there’s hope.” I was gazing dreamily at the fins gliding back and forth when I noticed one that seemed to be taller and thinner than the rest. Suddenly I straightened up. That was no fin. There w’as no mistake about it. What I saw was a peri¬ scope. My first thought was to warn the captain, but there was no need of that, for that gentleman was now advancing toward me—no doubt to place me in one of the ship’s cells. He approached me but never quite got around to speaking, for at that moment there was an explosion that nearly rent my eardrums. I felt myself falling, and I hit the water far below the deck with a force that knocked the wind out of me. I came gasping to the surface, struggling to keep myself afloat. I gazed behind me and saw that the ship was listing sharply to her starboard side. All was turmoil on board. 1 glanced around me to see if there were any pieces of wreckage to which I might cling. Sudden¬ ly, I bumped into a limp form. Lifting its head, I per¬ ceived to my surprise that it was the captain, apparently knocked unconscious in falling from the deck. At once the idea came into my head that if I let this man drown, my escape could not be blocked; that is, taking for granted that a rescue ship should come before long, for Hadley was the only person on the ship who knew 1 was a spy. However, he was a human being like my¬ self, and I could not gather nerve enough to let him die. In the midst of the confusion, I spied a stray piece of wreckage and hoisted Hadley onto it. He slowly opened his eyes and stared stupidly at me. I guess he was just barely conscious of the fact that 1 had saved his life. He attempted to speak but could not find his voice. ! decided that this was a good time to make my departure so after making sure that Hadley was capable of taking care of himself, I struck out for the shore, which wa now only a few miles away, fervently hoping that aP sharks in the vicinity had been sufficiently frightened by the explosion to have their appetities taken away. A report was received by the Federal Bureau o. Investigation a short time ago from one Robert Hadley former captain of the liner Phoenix. It read, Michat ■ Trotsky. Russian spy, lost at sea as result of torpedoing of the liner Phoenix.” Rae Ambaek CO-ED BLUES “—And remember, angel face, you’re coming up for the big game. All the usual XXX, Johnny” A letter like that from the man o’ her life would make any gal’s spinal column do funny things—mice ran up and down mine, anyway—but after the prelimi¬ nary thrill was over, I began to think. Yes, really, l mean think! I’d never, never again face such a critical audience. There would be all of his sceptical frat broth¬ ers and their lynx-eyed beauties. I just had to be super. Consequently, 1 soon found myself treading panther fashion across the thick mauve carpet of one of the smartest dress shops in town. The rug reminded me of Johnny (bless his heart) when his hair needs cutting. Before I had managed to stop reeling from the effects of the chromium chairs and mirrored walls, a small, brown-eyed woman flitted in. She surely must have come over on the same boat with that chic, Paris outfiL she was wearing. Madame scanned me from top to toe for a minute, and then: “Sometheeng sopheesticated, of course. Now Schiaparelli seemply dotes on zeese new cigarette silhouette, and, w T eeth zeese velvet turban, you would be veree, veree—oh, how do you say eet? She fluttered something in my face, groping for inspiration. Then triumphantly, ‘ ' Ze cat’s wheeskers! Cat’s whiskers was right, but I wasn’t going to the game with the cat; I w r as going with Johnny, and the cat’s whiskers and Johnny’s whiskers are two very dif¬ ferent things. It was the most adorable affair that I’d seen in ages. 1 mean actually. Yobody had wasted any material on the skirt; it was, as Madame bad said, like a long, slim cigarette. (Not to boast, of course, I really could wear it, thanks to those banana splits I’d so con¬ scientiously foregone.) There was a steep, apron-like flounce coiling up from what was advertised to he a “meager facade”. The neck was high and turtle-like, and the sleeves were long, with gloves that looked like part of the dress. It was the last word, hut I knew that it would be the last word in more ways than one if Johnny ever saw it, so, very gently, 1 told Madame that it would not do. “Mais oui!” she exclaimed, bobbing her well groomed hair-do. “I understand perfectly. Mademoi¬ selle does not wish to be sleek like ze seal; Mademoi¬ selle weel be too, too effeminate zeese year. Ze waist, she weel vamoosh into theen air, she weel he so tinee, and ze skirt, she weel sweesh and swirl, she weel he so full. Molyneux has designed just ze theeng!” I scrambled out of the “cigarette” and into the “hour¬ glass”, and when I say “hour-glass”, I mean just that! Frankly, my waistline and the waistline of the dress had two different ideas about what was going where. Ma¬ dame noticed this too, for she very tactfully murmured something to the effect that those hips that we gals have ail been doing our hardest to bump off for the past ten years are now expected to be nothing short of a gener¬ ous ogee curve. Then she trotted out—yes, really a Thirteen