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Page 11 text:
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THE ROUND TABLE 9 be. I wish there was something else to do.” She turned the leaves of the book slowly, idly glancing at the pict- ures and laughingly said—‘‘It makes charming reading, but' such thirtgs don’t happen in real life. I, for one, have never had a real adventure.” Laying the book down, she rested her chin in her hand and gazing into the flames plunged into a profound revery. The winds meanwhile kept up its dis- mal howling. Ruth shivered at the sound of it. More and more piercing- ly it howled, then suddenly at the peak of the crescendo, seemed to pause for breath and Ruth heard a tap-tap sound from somewhere, seemingly close by. Winds whistled ominously in the chim- ney. The lights flickered. A log in the fireplace fell in myriad fragments, showering tiny sparks as it crashed. Ruth was terrified. Tap-tap-tap—came the sound again. She turned, fear crystallizing into action. Cautiously, she made her way to a window irresistibly drawn by some preternatural force. Peering out she discerned just below the sill a muffled figure, she could not see the face, but she felt burning eyes fixed relentlessly upon her. She gazed at it awed to the point of immovability. From its cloak a hand crept out' and held before her fright-glazed eyes a star cut from some strange fabric and of a phosphorescent green. Then a muffled hollow voice intoned the single word “Come!” And the figure disappeared. Ruth stood irresolute. Half afraid, half tensed with excitement. ‘‘What a chance for adventure!” she cried final- ly. ‘‘Shall I go or— but why should I be afraid? Nothing can harm me. Besides—what fun it will be to tell people, Tom especially at the dance tomorrow night!” This last idea cap- tivated her. Hurriedly, she donned her coat and hat and slipping on heavy gloves, left the house. Once outside, however, she lost the confidence which had so helpfully buoyed her up. For where was she to go? Surely the figure had said “Come!”—but where? Sev- eral minutes she stood there expectant of some clue, but finally somewhat vexed, she turned to re-enter the house. Co-incident with her movement, a green star appeared on a nearby tree. Of course, she gave up immediately all thought of going again into the house and walked towards the star as if hyp- notized. Her course was now plain for it was evident that her mysterious guide meant to drop these stars all along the way. On and on she went, led by those strange clues, now on trees, on fences on houses, or on sidewalks. So intent' was she on her way that she lost all cognizance of her path and did not notice where it was leading her until at last, looking up, she found herself at the edge of a shadowy glum forest. Here the trail ended. Although she looked about and flashed the light she had brought along, almost with unwit- ting cleverness, she was unable to find any more clues. Disappointment and gloom overcame her and so highly keyed had she been to her task-—if it may be called that, that she very neatly collapsed. Steering herself she turned and commended the weary walk home. Gloomily back over the trail she had just traversed so ardently—went Ruth, when abruptly she stopped and bent over a small packet upon which winked leeringly a green star. Timorously she picked it up, then with growing exhil- eration tore it ope nto find a small paper bearing this: ‘‘Go to old Wab
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Page 10 text:
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8 THE ROUND TAR IE The Thanksgiving vacation was soon ended, and Tom Judson had to go back to school. “Well, Tom, why the long face? ’ inquired Uncle Jim at noon. “School gets worse and worse,” was the answer. “Who’s keeping you in this fine day?” ‘‘No one.” “Then what has happened? Did you fail a test?” “Worse than that,” groaned Tom. “Everyone in the High School has to write an essay on his Pet Hobby.” “Well, why don’t you write about radio?” “Aw—all the fellows are going to write that!” For a week, Tom worried about the essay, worried himself, his mother, and all others with whom he could possibly speak of it. The essay was to be handed in on Monday. It was Satur- day night before he realized that he hadn’t written a thing. Mr. and Mrs. Judson were out so Tom went resolute- ly to his desk and got out paper and a pencil. He played with the pencil awhile, then got up and sharpened it. A few more minutes of restless silence, then he took off his collar and rolled up his sleeves. “Whew what a job!” he exclaimed. He looked around thoughtfully for a while, foraged in the kitchen for a piece of cake and finally scrawled across the top of the first sheet, the one word “Skateing.” ‘‘Why, hadn’t' he thought of that be- fore?” He knew a lot about skating and in a short time he had written enough for his essay. “I’ll copy it tomorrow, I guess,” he said and with a sigh of relief put it away. “On the day before Christmas the Judson home was full of guests and decorated with holly wreaths and Christman bells while in one corner stood a giant Christmas tree. The postman’s whistle! What could he coming now? “Package for Thomas Judson, Ma’am,” the postman said as he hand- ed it to Mrs. Judson. “Mother, can I open it? Just this one? Please.” ‘‘Well, all right. But just this one.” Tom untied the string with excited fingers. On top of an oblong red box he found a white envelope with a letter inclosed from the school superintend- ent. It stated that the teachers had voted to award a prize for the best Pet Hobby essay. Judson s essay had taken the prize which had been selected with the aid of the essay itself. “Open it, Tom,” his father urged. Tom lifted the red cover and dis- closed a bright new pair of skates. “Now, I wonder,” he began. Then startled the group by exclaiming “1 know—the wishbone!” --------o------- AT THE SIGN OF THE GREEN STAR It was a wild wierd night'. The over boisterous wind clattered the shutters and sent the late Autumn leaves scam- pering crazily over the chilled ground. The sky was a canopy of black velvet. Not a star dared to peep out lest it be blown from its place by the rapacious winds. But inside, in the warm cozy house, snugly ensconced in a huge chair be- fore the fireplace, sat Ruth King, deep- ly absorbed in a book. At length she yawned. “What a clever mystery,” she exclaimed aloud. “But I’m so sleepy that’ I scarcely feel like reading it- however good it may
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Page 12 text:
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10 TILE ROUND TABUS ton’s deserted house on Hollow Road. Enter, but be cautious. Search rigor- ously and you will find something to your advantage.” No name was signed. Only a tiny counterfeit of a green star glowed blandly. A strange thrill pulsed through Ruth as she re- read the words. And the same impulse, the desire to tell her friends, Tom par- ticularly, prompted her to obey the queer message. Pulling her coat still closer to her so as to evade still more the biting cold and the rasping wind she made her way not at all nonchantantly to the appoint- ed place. A chill clutched her as she saw the house. “How dark, how for- bidding it appears! Shutters flopping! Could any place look more decadent?” Tingling with excitement' and still drawn by the irresistible influence, she tremulously approached the house. The door yielded and she entered. But it swung shut so suddenly, impelled by the wind that she could scarcely restrain a cry of terror at the appalling noise it made. She felt a strange chill come over her and imagined she could discern wierd figures slinking through the hall ways. What a thing to tell Tom indeed but how much pleasanter to have Tom with her all this time? Of a sudden she stiffened. Out of the blanket of darkness which envel- oped her, came a scream which curdled her blood even as she recognized the voice to be Tom’s. “Help, for God’s sake! Ruth, Ruth Sounds of a struggle and a long drawn final wail of pain. Ruth was transfixed with fright but after what seemed an eternity she came to herself and leaped in the direction from which the sound had proceeded. She again flashed the light—now somewhat dimmed—and saw in its wan glare her old friend Tom, in the devastating grip of a huge fiend who was relentlessly choking what little life he had left to him. As in a dream she realized it all. The mad man had lured Tom out there to murder him and not content with that savagery lured good old Tom’s pal too. Enraged, Ruth picked up a knife which lay on a table and cried—“Leave him alone, you fiend!” and raising the knife, she took a step forward. Fatal step! Tom’s oppon- ent paused, and in a fraction of a second touched a button concealed under the table. ‘‘Fool, fool,” he shrieked. Ruth sensed what would happen and tried to side step but too late. The floor seemed to slip away from her and with the awful laugh of the mad man ringing in her ears and the last harrow- ing spectacle of Tom, burning her eyes, she fell down—down—down hitting bottom with a tremendous bang. Rue- fully she rubbed her head and -opened her eyes—to look into the face of her mother! “Ruth, dear! you’ve frightened us to death with your groans and screams. At first we thought that you were ill but seeing the mystery story guessed what had happened.” Shaking her drowsy, bewildered head, Ruth arose and made her way towards the stairs. “Mother,” she called, “if you see any green stars, save them for me until morning. Good night! ”
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