Starrett School for Girls - Starette Yearbook (Chicago, IL)

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Suddenly-inspiration! The girl of the book store! As he thought, his searching hands encountered a book. His own. But no-his own was under his arm! He looked at the title: The Rise and Fall of Chicken Itza, Vol. II. Come on! shouted Harry O'Toole. To the corner of Seventh and Van Buren, he shouted to the cab driver. Arrest that man, ordered the professor. The policeman clapped a pair of bracelets No time was lost and soon they were in the book store. to the wrists of the owner. This time with no one to stop him, he lifted the trap door and cried, Come out, Jack. Slowly, rubbing his eyes to accustom them to the light, a well-dressed, but slightly dishevelled young man, climbed forth. jack! came a feminine squeal. Mr. Murgatroyd, how did you get there? asked O'Toole- This man Becker waylaid me one night as I returned home after spending an evening with his daughter. He brought me here at night and fed me while Alyce was shopping. She knew nothing about it. Do you prefer to bring charges against him? Yes! Please reconsider, Mr. Murgatroyd. If you do that, it will make it impossible for you to win his daughter, and I believe you want her. Tell me your story, sir, he said as he turned toward Becker. I wasn't going to have Alyce entering into marriage without a true love on both sides. I took this means of testing them. I'm satisfied. He may marry my daughter if he withdraws, or rather doesn't prefer charges against me. otherwise- Your meaning is all to clear. Murgatroyd, you see how it is. You get angry-you don't get married. You be good and y0u'll be happy. How about it? I think that I'll be good. Mr.1er? O'Toole. What! came an outburst from the outraged Beeman. You told me that you are Donovan, and now you're- O'Toole. Quite right. I'm not on the force and never was. Oh! But the reward? You'll get that? No, he won't. You will. He'll get another thousand, said Murgatroyd. But how did you learn where I was? Well, I saw Alyce's picture in your studio. Then I saw that you were acquainted. I was bothered as to how you got together until I saw the book. The rest was easy. A iealous and powerful father, a carefully guarded trap-door, a beautiful girl who waited upon a handsome young mang love at Hrst sight. Nothing to it! And by the way, Jack, how much do you want for your volume of 'The Rise and Fall'? Marion Serum, Senior A SERIES OF SENSE IMPRESSIONS SOUND She sat silent, her head drooping low. His voice droned on-purring and hissing like a cat's-sometimes low and almost undistinguishable-then slowly rising, becoming decisive-with syllables curt and sharp-piercing her mind with their metallic bril- liance. A sudden halt, and again the smooth, silken words flowed easily and softly from his lips, blending to perfection with the lap of the waves upon the sand. Her sigh was echoed by the wind in the trees-her weeping by the mourning dove. FEELING -unreasonable- Could he realize what he was saying-understand her state of mind? Why was he hurting her so, with his chilling words that had the power to numb her reason-kill Thirty-Nine

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DETECTIVE O'TOOLE Professor O'Toole whistled as he donned his hat, whistled as he passed out the door, and was still whistling as he strolled to the cafe where he and some fellow-instruc- tors were wont to while away their noons with arguments on diversified subjects. Star-gazing, he noticed for the first time a sign reading Becker's Book Store. Always interested in books, he began to look for the shop, which he soon saw tucked in between two buildings. He stepped inside to find himself gazing open-mouthed at a veritable mountain of a man who demanded to know what he wanted. I merely wish to browse around, replied O'Toole. All right, browse away, came the deep growl. Suddenly O'Toole seized The Rise and Fall of Chicken Itza, Vol. I. How much is this? Where is the other volume? Silence! roared the voice. It,11 cost you a quarter. My daughter sold the other volumef' Well, here's the quarter. Oh! How awkward of me. Here, I'll get it. The coin had mysteriously slipped through his fingers, exasperatingly avoided all attempts at recapture, rolled along the floor, and with a derisive smile on Liberty's face, hopped through a crack. Here is a-trap-'door of some kind, said the professor to himself, and reached for the ring on the floor. Let it go. It was a quarter all right. But don't try to open that door! And why not? demanded Professor O'Toole. He stooped once more to pull the ring, but this time he went spinning through the door and felt his precious book thrust into his hand as he reached the sidewalk. As he stood recovering from his surprise, he dimly noticed a beautiful girl go into the shop and heard theithunder clap greet her with Alyce, my child. The professor continued on his way, after having eaten. As he was crossing Grant Park, he was greeted by a man whom he could not place as ever having met. I-De greeted the man pleasantly, however, thinking that it was some pupil whom he had forgotten. To his surprise the man approached and said, Come on, let's go. I thought you would never come! The professor realized at once that it was a case of mistaken identity, but did not wish to refuse a chance for a lark, so he merely answered with a noncommittal SoP Yes, Are you ready to start? ' ' At once. , Here's a taxi. Do you want lthe details of the case? Oh, by the way, I'm Beeman of the Service. Of course, you're Donovan? That's the name I'm going under now, said the sagacious O,Toole. Well, it's this way. Jack Murgatroyd, the son of the Murgatroyds of Boston, has either kicked off or been abducted. His folks are offering a reward of one thousand dollars to anyone who finds him dead, alive, or insane. The Chief has appointed you and me as agents on the case. Professor O'Toole pricked up his ears. A thousand dollars! That was just what he needed for his trip to Central America. Might as well go through with this. Can't back out now anyhow. As he thought this over, the cab turned into a drive, leading through spacious grounds to a large house. The stranger got out, ran up the stairs, and entered without ceremony. O'Toole wonderingly followed his companion through the house to a studio on the top floor. What do you make of it? Wait a while and we'll see. Without more ado, he began to examine the room. After he h.ad looked over the papers in a desk, he went to a small stand in the center of che room and began looking over the papers piled there. Lying i-n the shuffle of unfinished sketches was one beautiful study of a pretty girl with raven black bobbed hair. There was something familiar about the face. Professor O'Toole traced back to place that hauntingly pretty girl. Thirty-Eight

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her vitality-yet stimulate her senses in such an awful way? His words pounded, seared themselves into her brain and made her feel as though her soul, breaking free from its lifeless shell, would crash through into another world. How conscious and yet dazed she was as she retained sub-consciously the ideas he expressed, while at the same time her bewildered brain speculated on only the unfairness and cruelty of his actions. TASTE Bah! With sudden fury, she threw away the fruit she had absently put into her mouth. A bitter, acid taste remained, as unpleasant as the atmosphere about her. Distasteful-- how expressive a word! How well it expressed her feelings. That coarse, biting irrita- tion of the throat corresponded perfectly with the bitter situation. SMELL What was that? Ah-a breeze from across the waters, bringing the sweet odor of dying roses and old grass soaked with dew-an odor as ageless as Time-an odor of the sorrow and despair of the gods-seeping into the brain of man with insinuating ease. No human expression can describe well enough this subtle. most memorable' perfume of all. - Jane Hopkins, Senior LOVE The heavens were a pitch black, ' When out of the horizon rose a mellow glow. I was spellbound, caught in the beauty of the moment, Caught in the shadows of the moon. It grew in splendor, and the soft radiance spread a halo of white gold over all. It was beautiful, but, to me, one thing was lacking,- My dear, it was you. What good is a moon, if you have no one to share it with? What good is the stillness and beauty- If you are there alone? ' Oh! Do you understand? Please say you do, For it means all the world to me. ' If I must be caught alone, Then the least I can do is dream of you. You know, my dear, your coming into my life reminds me very much of this moment. All was black, when suddenly from out of my horizon rose a mellow glow- It was you with your soft light and radiant love. I was caught, blinded, but spellbound- Caught in the meshes of those rays. That light grew in beauty and splendor, Until now, I'm lost without its sweet and guiding power- Lost in the shadows of our love. Grace Andrews, Senior YOUR SMILE I've never seen a smile as sweet as yours. Those times when I was lonely, ill, or sad, Or worried with the simple cares of life You'd smile for me and then I would be glad. But you have left me-so today I went To call you liar, cheat-to make you pay- But when you met me at your door, you smiled, My words were left unsaidg I went away. Dorothy Gidwitz, Senior F arty