Soldan High School - Scrip Yearbook (St Louis, MO)

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- I iii? ' 123- -'r 'tr of -:fi - - '4i?' The bus was just crossing an intersecting boulevard. As it got across, the sign in the middle of the street switched to Wait, Traffic Change. Go through it. But the driver slid to a stand-still. I don't mind breakin' some laws but that's dangerous crook or no crook. . To Joe, the few moments he was detained by the law seemed an eternity. He had his eye on the bus all the time. He saw it stop for passengers, start, and lost it as it turned the corner. At last the white flashed on again, and the driver was off. The taxi was soon at the corner, where joe gave a shout of joy. He heard the clanging of the bell, at the grade crossing around the corner. That'll stop 'em, he shouted, but, as the cab turned the corner, he slumped down in his seat with a groan. The bus was already safely across, and the gates were slowly but surely coming down. It was a freight: a long freight, a long, slow freight. The time it took to pass was at least two or three hours to the nerve-wracked passenger in the taxi. However, the welcome caboose was Hnally in sight. He tried to look through the spaces between the cars as they went by, but to no avail. For all he knew, the bus was out of sight by now. Finally the caboose rumbled across, and almost before the gates went up, the taxi was off. Now, step on it! came orders from the back seat. The bus was soon in sight. In a short time the cab was almost upon it. All right, next comer, said joe, and thrust a bill in the driver's pocket. joe got out of the cab and waited for the bus at the passenger's stop. But as the bus came on it did not slacken its speed. As it went by, the conductor on the rear platform waved and shouted, Full House. Joe did not try to suppress any curses. If his speech were repro- duced here, the story would be censored. p The cab by this time had turned around and was heading home- ward. However the driver was glad to turn again for a passenger, and soon the duo was once more in the chase. The two vehicles were soon side by side. Joe leaned out of the window. Stop that bus, there's a crook on it. The bus driver raised the window and put out his head. lcHuh?ry 1 b 9 Stop, there's a crook on your bus ! What do you think this is, Buddy, the 'Wagon'? 115

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, Y -'I 'f A-f -- ra-Q3 v-f 51:1 5-f f -fini - Y He's on your bus. Tried to get two twos for a one! This remark, coupled with the worried look of the speaker, gave the driver an impression, for he muttered, Poor guy's bug-house. Get me on! You can take another one! What did the guy you're after look like? Big fellow-moustache. Got off two blocks back. You can't kid me. I know he's- But the driver had closed the window and was holding up a sign z- Do not talk to operator. joe's speech will be left out, for various reasons. However, he cooled off, and told the driver to follow the bus till somebody got off. After a long ride this happened, and joe was finally stepping on the bus. He stormed onto the lower deck, looking at all the occupants, to their embarrassment and surprise, but nobody was there that even resembled the stranger in the smoke house. He searched top and bottom. bottom and top, and top and bottom again, but to no avail. The conductor approached. Fares, please. 'Tm not going to pay you! If you'd let me on the Erst time this wouldn't have happened. Oh, you're not going to pay, eh? You heard me. One side, I'm getting off! Just sit down, Buddy. You're going to the end of the line! The motorman called the conductor to him, as the latter was trying to put Joe in a seat. After a little conversation on the part of the crew of the bus, the proprietor of the Smoke House was let off, to the relief of the passengers. It was growing dark as Joe dragged himself up the Eve steps to the house where he boarded. He was wet, tired, and he had lost four dollars. His head felt as though it would pop open any minute. He climbed the three flights to his room, third Hoor back, and flopped on the bed. A mess of a day, right, escaped his lips. As Joe came to Work next morning, he saw a familiar Figure in front of the Smoke House. He started with surprise. There he is, he exclaimed with an oath under his breath, He'l1 not get away this time! But as he approached, the familiar figure started the conversation. Say, Brother, remember when I got change in your store yester- day? Well, here's three dollars of yours. Bud Compton. 116