Riverbend School for Girls - Vox Fluminis Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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24 Vox Fluminis gang. Reward of five hundred dollars offered for the capture of any one of the gangsters. Goldstein looked up and leaned to- wards Fritz. If I let you stay here, and kept you out of the way of this crowd, and then the police found you, I'd be in for Old Harry for not turning you in-and I don't want any suspicion on me! Better find some place else, Sonny! Fritz recoiled-he had not expected refusal. But you know I've never had anything to do with Pete's doings. I just joined his crowd because it was a job, after all, I had to eat-and I never thought they'd-murder anyone! It says, 'any member of Pete's gang' . . . sorry. But I've got to go somewhere! The frightened expression in the blue eyes was replaced by one of hopeless plead- ing. I thought maybe you'd remember that my father was your best friend- before he died . . . There was a sud- den catch in the boy's voice. The Jew gave an oily laugh. So you finally fell back on 'Auld Acquaint- ance,' eh! Well, O.K., I'll keep you nice and safe-and here . . . he tossed the boy a quarter. Go get yourself a drink? Fritz took the money, and crossed to the other side of the room. The noise of the half-drunk hooligans at the bar effectively prevented him from hear- ing any sound from the registration desk. Well-five-hundred bucks is nothing to be sneezed at! muttered Goldstein, his eyes again on the headline. Then, humming Auld Acquaintancej' he picked up the receiver of the phone and dialed the police station. :If Pk wk ik The shops and houses were becom- ing more scattered now, the bus moved more quickly, a few minutes more, and the city disappeared behind them. Thank goodness, sighed Rita, smil- ing, as the picture of home presented itself before her mind. Unnoticed, North Main melted away into the land of forgotten thoughts. R. STERLING, Grade XI. SPOOKS I glanced inside the aged house And saw no beauty there. A yellow stain upon the wall, A crack upon the stair. I stepped inside the doorway, and Surveyed the ghostly room, And then I saw a tiny form That peeped from out the gloom. It closer came, then disappeared Into a tiny hole, For it was nothing but a mouse - A lonely little soul. Imagination runs away Inside a haunted house, And one iseasily frightened by An also frightened mouse. NANCY COMPLIN, Grade VIII, Douglas Hall. EVENTIDE The last rays of the setting sun Have touched the waves with gold, The fishing boats to harbor come, Like wand'ring sheep to fold. Above their sails the sea-gulls fly, Hurrying home to nest, White sails, white wings, at eventide On quiet waters rest. At dawn the fishing ships set forth, All day, the sea to roam, But at the setting of the sun Like birds, they turn back home. BETTY BASTERFIELD, Grade IX, Douglas Hall.

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Vox Fluminis .23 'I'oujours, replied the little girl promptly, courtseying gaily to an imag- inary audience. And if there had been an audience present, it would have quite fallen in love with the little singer, as the clear, soaring notes floated through the little shop. J e t'aimerai toujours-si tu garderas ta cour pour moi . . . The old man swayed gently to the lilting, tango rhythm, and a happy half- smile crossed his face. He loved his little granddaughter almost to the point of worship, and cherished great hopes for her. Time would tell, and, oh-she could sing! Gnydia, he mused, as the song ended, and the prima-donna court- seyed again. I believe you are more a French demoiselle than a Polish girl. Mamma is French-and there are so many lovely French songs, you know, replied Gnydia, humming the tango and pierrouetting around the room. Well, maybe you will be in opera some day, grandfather laughed. Un- consciously he picked up a movie mag- azine which had been lying on the On the front cover was a pic- counter. ture of Deanna Durbin .... wk ik Ik Ik They sidered had reached what Rita con- about the worst place in the whole city-the subway. A decrepit dance-hall and restaurant -- what places! - but at the other side of the bridge stood quite the worst looking building imaginable. It was a personi- fication of dirt-the walls were sooty, gray brick, and the lig-hts inside emit- ted a dingy glare from the dusty win- dow panes. On the side wall was paint- ed, in huge red letters- Diamond Hotel-rooms 75c. Ugh! Who would ever enter such a place? Sk Sk Sk Ill At that moment, someone was enter- ing the Diamond Hotel. He was a boy about nineteen years of age, and the only feature which prevented him from being entirely nondescript in appear- ance, with his colorless complexion and dirty clothes, was a pair of exceedingly striking deep blue eyes, in which shone a wild, frightened light. A cloud of cigar smoke blew into his face as he opened the door of the building and stepped furtively inside. Edging around the crowd of loafers, as if to avoid notice, he crept up to the registration desk. Behind the desk sat the proprietor of the hotel, the respectable Isaac Gold- stein. He had placed a pair of dirty, horn-rimmed glasses on his red, hooked nose, and with an air of intense pre- occupation, pored over the headlines of a morning newspaper. A slight cough from the other side of the desk inter- rupted him suddenly, and, as he looked at the young intruder, he started visi- bly. In a second, he recovered his com- posure, and a mocking grin overspread his face. Why, my dear Fritz, he said, with an unpleasant accent on the dear, What ever are you doing here? Don't you consider it a bit dangerous? The boy reddened slightly, and drew a deep breath, as if steeling himself for an ordeal. Leaving out the sarcasm, he said, in a low voice, I'd like to ask you something. Well, well-a favour! sneered Gold- stein. And after telling me two years ago that you would never again lower yourself to have anything to do with me? Please forget it, said Fritz, his lip curling slightly. I want to stay here for a while. No one would look for me in a public sort of place like this, people usually hide in some little out- of-the-way dump that's easier to get away from. i'Mm-m. Goldstein glanced at the newspaper. The front page was almost entirely filled with accounts of a mur- der which had taken place the day be- fore, in which a band of reckless gangs- ters had killed a policeman. The head- line ran as follows: Police find no trace as yet of Pete Schmidt or his

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Vox Fluminis 25 TVVO TICKETS FOR THE YANKEE CLIPPERJ' YTOUNG Bill Henderson walked blithely down the street to the tiny house in the last block. He was completely happy-and why shouldn't he be with a new position, a home, and dearest of all to him, the best wife a man ever had. William Henderson, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Bill kept saying it over and over again-he couldn't be- lieve it was true. Lorna would be waiting for him, looking prettier than ever. They had been married only a short time and were still Cas Bill's mother saidb like a couple of high school kids. Bill opened the door and crept into the kitchen where he could see Lorna busily preparing dinner. He kissed her golden head lightly, and she swung around, startled. Then, seeing who it was she said happily, Darling! when did you get in from Washington? Did you solve the big case? Why didn't you let me know you were coming? Wait a minute, honey, one at a time. I'll tell you all about Washington and the big case at supper. What do you say we eat now, eh? Lorna dimpled. Just like Bill to think of his stomach, oh well! Over the coffee cups Bill told Lorna about the Mason Case, one of the most puzzling on record. We haven't a chance of catching Williams, I'm afraid, said Bill, the only clue we got after Mason was mur- dered was from a ticket agent. Wil- liams, the man we're after, disappeared. Then a girl bought two tickets for the Yankee Clipper, which leaves for Ber- muda tonight. She's been seen with Williams before, so, naturally, our sus- picions were aroused. Once he reaches Bermuda, U.S. can't touch him, even if we could find him. Lorna's lovely face clouded, Bill, she said, I wish you wouldn't worry so about the Mason case. They'll get Williams, and anyway, I haven't seen you for a month. C'mon, lets leave the dishes and sit by the fire. You must tell me all about Washington. I haven't done anything but work on this case, dear. What did you do while I was away? Did you miss me? You know I did, Bill, Lorna whis- pered, Newport's so quiet, there wasn't much for me to do. For a moment they sat silent. Now that Bill was home again, he realized how much he had missed Lorna. With- out her, everything was unimportant. Lorna jumped up suddenly. Oh dear, Bill, I have to go to a bridge party at Wilson's. I'll have to hurry. You always hated bridge, honey, I'm glad to see you've finally learned to play, but couldn't you cancel it just for tonight? Bill asked. No dear, I won't be late, and Jean would be so disappointed if I didn't come. It's 7:30 now, I must hurry. Bill, will you get my purse, please? It's on the bed. Bill entered the bedroom. He went to the bed and picked up Lorna's purse. It fell from his hands to the floor. Hope I haven't broken anything, muttered Bill, as he gathered up the articles which were spilled all over the floor. He smiled to himself. What a queer collection of things you find in a woman's purse-a lipstick, a cigarette lighter, a compact, loose change, a key ring, zone tickets-and two tickets for the eight o'clock Yankee Clipper- destination-Bermuda ! ! MARIE BOND, Grade IX, Garry Hall. .l. .. 1-1 SPRING The daffodils are waking from their long winter's sleep. The little baby birds are going peep, peep peep. Flowers are coming, Bees are humming, Spring is coming back again, her promise to keep. JUDY ADAMSON, Grade III, Garry Hall.