Wells High School - Crimson and Gray Yearbook (Southbridge, MA)

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8 THE CRIMSON AND GRAY the ground he could just reach the drill hole. After putting in the charge Frank started to put the fuse in. I guess that I ' ll make it a little longer than usual for I want plenty of time to get to the ground before the thing goes off, ' ' thought Frank. He added another foot to the fuse and then lighted it. Al in the meantime was sitting about one hundred yards from Frank waiting for him to finish. There she goes , said Al as Frank lit the fuse; then to the for- mer ' s horror Frank sank down on the ledge with a groan as a fragment of rock crushed his foot to the bank. He could not move! With a bound Alfred started for Frank and then stopped short. I never can make it before the dynamite goes off. The steam shovel. It took a precious min- ute to reach it and get it into gear. Would h ' s false start cost him Frank ' s life? Would the shovel never start and why did it go so slowly? Could the great shovel reach Frank? These were the questions that crowded into Alfred ' s mind as he started the ponderous arm on its way. A variation of six inches from the underside of the ledge would be liable to kill Frank for he would be buried under the rock in thf shovel. Less than six inches of the fuse was left It ' s lucky that Frank made the fuse longer than usual, muttered Al fervently to himself. With a quick upward swing the shovel took the ledge with Frank upon it into its gapeing mouth. It swung to the ground just as the blast went off, blowing the en- tire bank out where Frank had lain a half minute before. Al jumped to the ground and lifted the body of his friend out and laid him on the ground. After bathing Frank ' s head with water the latter opened his eyes and grasping Al ' s hand he said tenderly, Al, old scout, the debt is naid. Ellis S. Potter THE DISAPPEARANCE OF HANS SCHMIDT A low framework farmhoue in which a Dutch family lived lay close by a winding sandy road. A very young man and his rosy wife had come to Wisconsin ten years ago, in I860, and making a rough cabin, started their life there. The ten years had been very hard, years in which the wooded forests had been cleared and gardens plant- ed, the new country made into a home. There was work still to do but the pioneer- ing was passed. It was mid-July and the first haying over. Hans was smoking his pipe and rest- ing comfortably, having nothing to do, in the middle of the morning. He looked like a quiet, contented, rather stupid and mid- dle-aged Dutchman as he gazed at his field of young green corn across the road. Mena was working in the kitchen. She sang as she worked. She was strong, if not so fresh-looking as she had been at twenty one, and the work which was her share in life did not seem too much for her. Once she came out to get some water from the well. She stopped by her husband and the two watched a covered p ' rairie- schooner roll by, going to a new land as they themselves had gone ten years ago. They watched it turn the bend by the big elm tree. Hans, you better go by de village und some flour und kerosene get, Mena suggested. Achdt , kerosene for the new stove, sa ; d stupid Hans, in protest ' and he ambled off. Mena had plenty to do all day you may be sure with her cooking and the care of her three children. At suppertime Hans did not appear. Ver ees mine Hans after all dis vurk I make to get him supper, said tired Mena. Hans did not appear a,fter supper either so Mena sat for a short time knitting in the pleasant July evening listening to the night creatures whose familiar noises pleased and soothed her. Hans must have decided to spend the night with his cousin in town. Next morning Mena had to lead the four cows to pasture and with little Fritz ' s as- sistance feed the pigs, for Hans seemed to be taking a vacation. Fiddlestick, Hans tink he still be young kid. Why don ' t he come heme and do his vurk? at noon Mena said uneasily. As a farm wagon was going by she asked the driver if he saw Hans to send him home. At dusk the farmer re- turned and told her Hans was not in the village. He had left it about two o ' clock the preceding afternoon. Poor Mena ! Where was her Hans ? What could have happened to him? He must be dead ! What could she do without her hus- band, and the children without their fa-

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THE CRIMSON AND GRAY which way they had gone. With a reas- suring word to his horse, he mounted and started forward. He kept Wildfire at a slow pace to save his energy for a possible race with the Indians. Two thirds of the distance were covered without mishap. Then, rounding a bend in the trail Lewis raw before him the war party of about forty Indians camped beside the trail. Dusk was coming on. Drawing his re- volver and applying his spurs to Wildfire Barton dashed forward. Several Indians tried to block his path but he fought his way through before they could mount their horses. Then followed a race for life. Thanks to the darkness the bullets fired by the pursuers went wild, doing no damage. Wildfire was a large powerful horse but he had covered a long hard trail that day. The comparatively fresh horses of the Indians slowly gained on him. Sud- denly Lewis caught sight of a horseman ahead. Was it friend or foe? It proved to be the other rider of Station No. 10 re- turning from Danvers. Upon seeing this new horseman the Indians hesitated a mo- ment, not knowing whether he was alone. This respite gave Lewis a few seconds to increase the distance between himself and his pursuers. The two express riders • i ' ely made the final dash to Danvers. The alarm was given and a troup of cav- alry took the situation in hand and routed the Indians. Half frozen and nearly exhausted Lewis Barton delivered the mail at the station. He was still five hours late; he had not gained any time but neither had he lost a minute. Frank Goodel HIS UNPAID DEBT Help! Help! Help! The cry was heard by Frank Reynolds who was working in a corn field near a pasture in which Mr. Lampson ' s ferocious bull was tied. Grabbing his hoe as a weanon of defense, Frank ran for the pasture. No, the trouble wasn ' t there for the bull was placidly eat- ing grass under the apple tree. The swim- ming hole ! That was it. Sprinting with all his might he reached the hole just in time to see a city fellow, that he knew to be the son of a contractor, sink for the second time. Although he could not swim, Frank made a leap into the water which came up to his neck. He could go no farther. If I get over my head, thought Frank we will both drown but what the dickens can I do? With a glad cry he thrust out his hoe, which he had held on to during all of this excitement, and caught it on the drowning boy ' s coat. It was only the work of a minute to drag the semi-conscious lad to dry land. A barrel that the fellows had to float a raft was used to roll the unconscious lad on and half an hour later a fluttering of eyelids was Frank ' s reward for his efforts. Soon, Alfred Mason, which was the boy ' s name, was able to tell his story. I came down to the swimming hole he told Frank to see if any of the fellows were around and decided to walk out on the spring board to see how deep the water was un- derneath. I must have slipped , continued Alfred, anyway, everything went black, but I still had sense enough left to yell for help and you know the rest better than I do. I am not going to try to thank you, for I know it would be impossible, but I shall always remember your service. PART II Five- years have elapsed. Frank Reynolds was now nineteen and Alfred, Al, as the fellows called him, twen- ty. Frank was working his way through a business college while Al was finishing his third year at Brown. In order that he might have some extra money for his next year at school, Frank took a job that called for nerve and skill, that of a professional blaster. His employ- er was Al ' s father and as luck would have it Al was running a steam shovel on the same job, for labor was scarce that season. At Frank ' s request he was changed into Al ' s division and the two old friends were working together. After two months of strenuous labor Al was able to run his giant shovel with the skill of an expert. He never thought that he might have cause to show his skill but one day — but that ' s the story. As the work on the contract progressed it was found necessary to blast a rock that was out of reach of the shovel so Frank was detailed for the job. By standing on a protruding shelf of rock fifteen feet from

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THE CRIMSON AND GRAY ther? The hard-earned farm could not be kept, and the pioneer woman became wild in her grief. The kindly neighbors and village folk made up searching parties and hunted high and low for Kans Schmidt, but theirs was an almost hopeless task for the coun- try was still very wild except for the few tarms and villages. Hans might have been lost in a marsh or hurled down some ra- vine. The excitement was high and there was a great deal of gossiping done. In so small a town exciting things do not happen often and many were the speculations concern- ing Hans and great the wonder about Men- a ' s future. His disappearance was the main topic of conversation till one day three months later greater news took its place. On this day Mrs. Schuerman walked in- to the village store for some eggs and no- ticed a strange man take a cracker from the bin, trim the cheese on the cracker, and devour it and then take up another cracker and proceed as before. Of course there was nothing novel about this action but a stranger was a curiosity and when Mrs. Schuerman discovered he was not even a stranger but Hans Schmidt you will see why Hans ' disappearance paled n the light of his appearance. This was the new excitement and this is the exact con- versation which took place. Hans Schmidt, hef you come back from the dead? Does Mena know you ' re back? Ver hef you been? Oh, I shusdt ben oudt to Dagota. Some- body came along midt a prairie schooner und I went along to loog at der land. Veil said Mrs. Schuerman, you haf Mena vurried half crazy. She thinks you vas dedt! Vat, she been vurried? asked Hans, I don ' t see vhy she need. She knows I got my life inshured. Constance L. Grant A BETTER MOMENT Mail, s ' r, murmured the deferential butler, as he held the tray out to young Jim Roberts. Jim carelessly glanced thru the pile and selecting three letters, ambled into the library. The one he eagerly opened first was written on the most fashionable pa- per addressed in the dainty hand most ac- cepted among that year ' s debutantes. A joyous smile spread over his face as he read the invitation to Bess ' Christmas house party. Bess, let it be known, was the daintiest, most spoiled girl of the season. That would be a fine way to enjoy ,the holidays he decided, and spent a few dreamy minutes before opening the sec- ond letter. This was a true man ' s letter. Jim ' s sat- isfaction increased as he read it. He was to see Brookes on Saturday. He made a rapid calculation and suddenly he realized that as Brookes ' office and Bess ' Society Ranch, as it was called, were in the same town, he could start from the city at noon Saturday, keep the appointment with Brookes and be at Bess ' by four o ' clock. To settle the business of investing his for- tune so quickly was better luck than he had hoped for. It was certa ' nly white of Brookes to let him in on this deal. Weren ' t many men who would bother with a fel- low just out of college. Well — let ' s see. This letter must be from Aunt Jane. His conscience pricked. Had he answered her last letter? No, he didn ' t think he had. Poor dear Aunt Jane, up there in the tiny village. What a hard life she had led from her girl-hood, caring for her live teasing brothers and sisters. Now she .wan all alone .One by one, John, Anne, Prue, and the rest had left the tranquil village to lead a busy life in bustling cities As Jim read the note his face grew thoughtful, then puzzled. Aunt Jane was to be ai alone in her little cottage Christ- mas; all the brothers and sisters were too busy, too far away, or too occupied to even think of poor, dear Jane. Wouldn ' t Jim like to spend the day with his old aunt? Self-effacing, as usual, Jane had added not to think of coming if Jim had other plans. It certainly was too bad he had the other engagement. It was very necessary to keep it, in fact as he thought it over, he must keep it. Why, if he put Brookes off he might lose his chance. No, he couldn ' t think of Christmas with Aunt Jane. Then too, anticipant, he had prepared for the house party. Of course, to do anything else but accept Bess ' invitation would be non- sensical. He must hurry; here it was nine forty- five and he had an appointment at ten. Saturday dawned clear and frosty. The