Taunton High School - Journal Yearbook (Taunton, MA)

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A Z C I: 2 4 x I. CARR RT I5 .-XL Ii LI..-XRD ASBURY QC.-W1 UNI XY I III WILLIAM QIIINN, ICUAL RUSS LI. H ATHAXYAY S-e

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1' . 5.592 tef- THE JOURNAL f stride, and splashed through the shallow pond that was his dooryard. Once in the sodden field beyond, he stepped more carefully, but his deter- mination did not lessen. The drenching rain soaked the brim of his hat, and it flapped sloppily about his ears, sending rivulets of water inside the unbuttoned neck of his coat. His feet sank into the half liquid earth of the field, and the mud oozed into the tops of his shoes, but he paid not the slightest attention. Cautiously he neared the orchard. In the darkness and downpour nothing was visible far ahead save the shifting outlines of the trees. Morley stopped, and looked about him, thrusting his head for- ward to determine his position. The fool comes down to that tree in the lower corner, he thought. I'll get him there, sure. He crept toward the vague gray shape of the tree, and circling slowly, reached the outermost tips of its low branches. He listened. There was no sound but the monotonous swish of the rain. Stooping,-he advanced step by step beneath the boughs and gazed upward. Between himself and the dusk of the sky loomed a dim outline, only a blacker blot among the dripping branches. The figure seemed not to have perceived him. He crouched lower, and slid a step farther. Then with a spring he threw himself upward, his mighty arms closed about the figure, and without a cry both fell back into the mud. The clinging stuff hindered Morley's movements, it soaked his flap- ping coatg it plastered his hair and face and held him down: but with a colossal effort he struggled to his feet, still with his clutching hands about the neck of his enemy. I've got you, he rasped, hoarsely. A'Thought 'twas her comin' to feed yuh chocolate cake maybe, didn't yuh! I knew well enough where you'd be roostin' tonight. But you won't roost on my porch again. You've done it for the last time. D'ye hear? The last time! With a swift movement Morley whipped the knife from his pocket. One horrible cry shivered above the pelting of the rain, and Morley leaned panting against the tree trunk, gazing fascinated at the dreadful Figure struggling in the slimy mud. But even as he gazed the soft splash of a footstep sounded behind him. A hand appeared out of the darkness and thrust something quickly toward him. Jed, quavered the voice of his wife, Here's the pail and a kettle of hot water. You pick him. Don't seem's ifI could. He was the handsomest rooster we ever owned. 65 iii?

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