West Side High School - Legenda Yearbook (Saginaw, MI)

Page 52 text:

The Guest ' s Ghost Herbert Wallace It was at a dinner, a little less than a year ago, at our house. Father had brought home a college friend who was stopping in town. To a question of mother ' s as to how he spent his time, as he was a man of means with no business or profe ssion, he answered, I have always been very much interested in traveling. Until two months ago I was a continual wanderer. I had seen practically every country in the world. You may well imagine that I had a good many interesting experiences and adventures. So I did, but the most bewildering ex- perience of my roaming life took place in one of the longest civilized countries in Europe — Italy. A little over a year ago, he continued, I stepped off the slowest train in Christendom, from Rome to Perugia, about fifty miles north of Rome. Looking around, I found myself a little south of the city. The town was located on a hill, and below stretched away the ancient narrow streets and humble homes. A friendly native, who was very anxious to take me to a hotel, told me that the town had not changed a bit in the last five hundred years, excepting for the erection of the large modem hotel, which, it appeared to the natives, was the only attraction of the city to foreigners. But I made it clear to him that I didn ' t want to go to any modern place, choosing one of the most ancient buildings for lodging instead. When he understood me, he was very much surprised, but said he had a brother who could take care of me. I bade him lead me to the house of his brother, and off we started. He lead the way from one winding, narrow street to another of the same quality. Finally we stopped at a door exactly like all the other doors we had passed. My friend led me into a large room, with a prosperous looking Italian sitting watching his wife cook dinner. He arose and greeted his brother, who explained my wants. The old landlord, as he proved to be, said that he had no empty rooms excepting an old room in the cellar, which he said was not fit for the American, and hadn ' t been used for years. Fine ! thought I. A new experience. I told him that I would be satisfied just as long as it had a bed that I could rest on. So the old gentleman led me down the stairs into a large and stuffy room below. It had only a crack about an inch wide and two feet long as a passage for air. He lit a candle for me, and I saw that my resting place, or rather cell, was a room about ten feet square. The walls and the floors were of stone blocks, and in one corner was a wooden frame, which he informed me was my cot. There was also a chair in the room, which I honestly suspect was a relic of Caesar ' s day. After dinner we talked a while — or rather the landlord did all the talking. He told me how this inn of his was standing over the ancient castle of a wicked Perugian king, which had long since been

Page 51 text:

and sat down on the floor in a very ungraceful manner. This caused a great laugh for the other dancers. He beat me to it, said Jim. I suppose I ' m next. I don ' t think so, Jane replied. You ' re not so bad as you think. Then as their conversation became more free, Jim began to enjoy himself once more. During the several dances that followed, Jim continually stared at Jane. In doing so, he became the pest of the floor. If there was anyone he did not bump into, it was because they got off the floor when he came near. Between dances Don came over to him, and drawing him aside, said, Say, am I making a fool out of myself? You look at me all the time. I don ' t either, he denied. Well, then it ' s Jane. The next dance is yours. Look at her all you want to then, but don ' t look at her and me all evening, said Don. Don ' s retort had some effect on Jimmy; he watched his dancing more than before. That night Jim returned home, admitting he had a very enjoyable evening. The question at issue for Jimmy was, How am I going to explain this? The next afternoon he told Don of his difficulty and asked for advice. That ' s easy, replied Don. I made a date for vou for Sundav night. You ' ve got vour nerve. If you don ' t want to I will. Sunday night found Jimmy at Towner ' s residence. He was sitting on the davenport with Jane trj-ing to explain this affair. I ' m glad you did as you did, Jim, she said, after she was able partly to understand what he meant, from his awkward explanation. You ' re the best little sport ever, Jane, he replied. Then four-year-old Bobby Towner came into the room and started the victrola. Being a well educated child, he left. What ' s that? asked Jim. ' Say it With Music ' , she replied. I will ; maybe it will be easier. Jimmy said whatever he wanted to say to music. If you can ' t believe Irving Berlin, ask Jim. '

Page 53 text:

a mass of crumbling stones. When the conversation lagged finally, I took a lantern and went to my room, as I was greatly in need of sleep. When I got there, I found that it not only was stuffy, but was infested with rats. When I entered, they all scampered away, but soon returned. I was in the act of drawing a shoe off, and I finished this and carefully took aim at the thickest collection of rats, and let it sail. The shoe flew wide of its target, and hit one of the lower bricks in the side wall. What was happening? In the wall above the brick, a heavy stone door slowly opened inward. You can not imagine how surprised I was, and at first, terribly frightened. I rapidly recovered from my fright, and took in the situation. The shoe must have released a spring catch to this mysteri- ous door. I couldn ' t imagine what it could lead to, but again led by the adventurous spirit, I replaced the shoe, and, taking the lamp in hand, I stepped through the doorway. I was able to discern a stairway lead- ing down into the dark below. The adventurous again won out over common sense, and it lead me down those stairs into a passage- way below. I followed this rude corridor and went down and down. At last I came to an end of this underground passage. There was a blank wall in front of me. I searched it very carefully for any trace of a crack which might be that of a door, but could find no sign of anything but a blank wall. I was just about ready to turn back when a possible hope came to me. I let the light of the lantern fall well on the floor. And surely m.y efforts were not wasted, for behold, there lay a large iron ring, and I could even see the outline of a trap-door. With a mighty effort I succeeded in getting it out, and pulling it aside, I went below. The light of my lantern fell upon the most beautiful collection of jewels and gold that I ever hope to set eyes on. I went forward and examined them more closely. It certainly was no ill wind that brought me to this town, thought I. But just then I had a feeling of fear or dread of something unknown. I felt that someone had entered the room. I picked out a heavy bar of gold from the treasure pile, and wheeled about. In the other end of the chamber was a man, who might well have stepped out of The Arabian Nights. He wore a kingly garb of the time before Christ. I was dreadfully afraid of this person, although at the time I didn ' t mar ' el at his costume. For some unexplainable reason I lifted the gold bar, and hurled it at him. I thought I had been successful this time in my shot, but my bar went right through my hero of the early times. The bar went directly through his chest, and crashed on the wall in back of him. I had never before laid any thought on phantom creatures, but now I had a terrible fear of this super human thing that had no material substance. At last he spoke, in a low, trembling tone, ' The mighty Suzzina does not pardon him who enters the treasure room of this palace. You enter the kingdom of the immortal rulers. It is my purpose to rid the world of thee. '