University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA)

 - Class of 1917

Page 13 of 454

 

University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 13 of 454
Page 13 of 454



University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 12
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University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA) online collection, 1917 Edition, Page 14
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Page 13 text:

THE REDWOOD As he moved again, his foot struck an object. Leaning over, he felt of it. A box. ' ' What was it doing here, he asked himself. He tried to move it but could not. ' ' If I could only strike a light, he thought, I could see what this means. But to strike a light now would be fatal. Stooping down once more, he groped for the edge of the cover. But no edge could he find, for there was no cover. It was an up- turned box fastened to one of the ties of the track. Two wires led from the box beneath the rails and stretched into the darkness of the tunnel. A slight noise in the box attracted Blank ' s attention, and bending for- ward, rested his ear against the side of the box, and listened. A light ticking like the noise of an alarm clock within the box was all he could distinguish. The truth suddenly dawned upon him. It is an infernal machine, placed here by some fanatic ! he cried. No, not by a fanatic, but by a deadly enemy of our country. The realization of the true meaning of the box, and why it had been placed in the tunnel created a horrible predic- ament for Blank. What miserable luck, he moaned, is mine. After everything progressing so wonderfully, with my escape almost assured, this beastly little box has to go and upset all my plans. I can ' t leave this box here to blow up the tun- nel, and perhaps mean the loss of many lives if a train should happen to pass through here at the same time. It is not possibl-ef that the miscreant who placed it here, has it timed for just some such purpose, or who knows but what it might go off any minute. But why should I risk everything after everybody has turned against me, and have been only too willing to let me work at the rock pile. Why should I now give up my precious chance of proving my innocence? Why should I strive to protect the property of the company who sent me up? I won ' t do it ! I ' 11 let the tunnel blow up, and pursuit will be impossible then. If I could get through before it should blow up, I would be safe. The decision half-heartedly made, he turned to pass deeper into the tunnel. The long dreary hours in the melan- choly prison, and the nagging of the guards while at work, had hardened his spirit and warped his judgment. No longer, it seemed, was the welfare and safety of the many the paramount feel- ing, but the selfish nature that had been ground into him in prison strug- gled to the fore. Hurriedly stumbling through the tunnel, he covered quite a distance. But then his steps began to lag, and finally he stopped. Passing his hand over his forehead, he brushed away the beads of perspiration that rolled down into his eyes, blinding him. The tor- ture of his spirit was making itself felt in his body. Sinking down upon the rail he gave himself up to his thoughts. I can ' t do it! I can ' t do it! he repeated over and over in a scarcely

Page 12 text:

THE REDWOOD to hide must be found before the fog should entirely clear up and reveal him to the gaze of those who might even new be searching for him. Somewhere along this railroad, he re- membered, there was a tunnel. If he could make it before discovery, he could hide in it with practically no chance of discovery. The guards would never think of looking for him in a railway tunnel. But what was that sound? A shot! Blank stood still and listened intently. What did it mean, he thought, ' ' have they discovered my absence al- ready? Ah, no, it cannot be true. He was about to continue his stealthy stride, when another shot rang out, this time much nearer. Several shots rang out almost simultaneously with it. Blank hesitated. Evidently his es- cape had been discovered, and the guards were already on his trail. But hope was not yet dead, the tunnel was still ahead. His moment of hesitation over, he quickened his pace and hurried along the narrow path along the side of the tracks. At length, at a distance, the black, forbidding, gaping mouth of the tunnel appeared through the slowly- lightening fog. But it was not black and forbidding to Blank, in his anxi- ety, it was a haven of refuge. Quickly covering the remaining dis- tance, Blank edged furtively into the darkness of the tunnel which seemed to reach out helping hands to welcome him and enveloped him in a curtain of obscurity. As soon as he was a few yards within the darkness, he turned and throwing himself upon the floor of the tunnel, eagerly listened for sounds of pursuit. Nothing moved; no sound broke the deathly stillness. The fog was gradually lifting, and as the bright rays of the afternoon sun quickly dispersed the remaining banks of fog, the darkness of the tunnel light- ened. Blank quietly drew back farther into the tunnel, but not so far as not to be able to see clearly what was trans- piring without. As the fog lifted, it revealed in the distance several indistinct forms. Blank quickly arose from his crouching position, and screening his eyes, in- tently watched them. They were yet too far distant to make out clearly who they were, but something that thej were carrying in their hands which glistened when the sun shone upon it told him the answer. They must be carrying guns, and if so, who are they? The answer that involuntarily arose in his mind was ' guards ! ' ' Hastily abandoning his position, he scurried deeper into the dark recesses of the tunnel. What if the guards should search the tunnel and find him there? It would be all up with him then. Further and further into the darkness of the tunnel he crept, as the guards gradually drew closer and clos- er. He stopped a moment to watch them.



Page 14 text:

8 THE REDWOOD audible whisper. I could not have the death of innocent persons upon my soul, and my country, even though she has scorned me, and has put the badge of disgrace on me, has the right to my poor help. My cowardice and selfish- ness though it might save me, might also mean the ruination of my country. I do not know what things have been happening, but from the rumors that have floated into prison, I know that grave danger threatens our country. What can I do? Tormented by his thoughts, and wav- ering between one extreme and the oth- er, Blank sat upon the rail, exhausted in body and in spirit. Allowing his hand to drop from his heated forehead to his side, it came into contact with a cold clammy object. Frightened by the sensation, he hastily recoiled. For the moment he was nonplussed. Gath- ering courage, he cautiously felt for the object, and was relieved to find noth- ing immediately dangerous about it. Examining it more closely, he found the same two wires leading to it that he had found coming from the box. ' ' It is the rest of the infernal ma- chine, he thought, ' ' and the danger- ous part of it. Now, what shall I do? Leave this thing here for the next train to hit, or shall I give up my chance of liberty? Ah, better it is for me to give up my liberty, than my country suf- fer! But what is that noise? A train? My God! I won ' t have time to discon- nect this, the train is too near. Stumbling, and falling in his rapid run towards the opening of the tunnel, Blank did not have time to think over the wisdom of his decision. The one thought that now pervaded his mind was the safety of the train. Nearer and nearer, through the tunnel ' s mouth, he saw it approach. As he ad- vanced into the light, disheveled, un- kempt and dirty, running as from a nightmare, he heard a sharp command. Halt! was what he heard, and im- mediatley two men stepped in front of him. Don ' t stop me, he cried. Stop the train! There ' s a bomb in the tun- nel! The words provoked instant action from the men. With wild waving of hats and rifles, the train was halted but a few feet from the tunnel. Who are you? demanded the man who first spoke. I am nothing but an escaped con- vict, willing to give up his freedom for his country and now I am ready to go back to prison. Take me away. Sorry, but I am not a prison guard, but a railroad guard. I ' ll have to in- vestigate your story first, and if that ' s true, why, I guess the rest of it is too. After a few minutes investigation, the truth of Blank ' s story was substan- tiated. By this time the people in the train had learned why the train was delayed, and of the convict ' s sacrifice. It was agreed among them that the convict should be taken with them and

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