Westport Junior High School - Iris Yearbook (Kansas City, MO)

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gridiron star, and was it not xi chap with n topknot of red that piloted our sister school. Westport, to victory in basketball this year? Ah, basketball! That is our story. It was the very eve of the basketball season and the excitement over the topic sim- mering nlong for weeks, had reached its highest peak. Teachers found it impossible to quell the restlessness and impatience in the air and at last gave up the attempt. The day, so long to others, fairly flew for Ted Morrel, siubstitute. Tonight .was the great night. But over his Latin grammar he allowed his thoughts to take him back to the day, weeks before, when he had first tried for a place on the school team. He remembered the tuunts and jeers thrown at him from the onlookers at his clumsy efforts and awkward movements, and the nickname he had acquired which had clung like a burr ever since. That name Slobl How he hated it! Then, too, when he had just been ready to give up, the girl with the red hair had come up and told him that he was wonderful and would be a star yet. Of course he didn't believe it, but it was nice that some one thought so. Suddenly he came back to earth with a start. Sl- Ted, you will please recite the subjunctivef' said the teacher. Even he calls me 'Slob,' thought Ted. At last the great night came, the night which should decide the victor, Broad- nioreland or Redridge. The memorial hall was filled to overflowing with the follow- ers of both schools, their cheer leaders and bands. The hall itself was a riot of blazing color. Ted, dressed early, found himself scanning the spectators for the girl with the red hair. He needed encouragement, and there was something about her that made him feel like trying. You will be a star yet, still rang in his ears. Redridge and Broadmoreland ran into the court. Cheers and a deafening uproar greeted their entrance: then the spectators quieted to watch with breathlessness the game between the rivals. Now the great game was on. Neither school made much advance in the first quarter. The ball passed from one school to the other until Broadmoreland with a sudden spurt put a mm-gin of ten between Redridge and herself. The quarter ended with Broadmoreland twelve, Red- ridge fou1'. Rez ridge was still completely dazed, hut her followers were as loyal as ever. Redridge with fresh vigor brought the score from four to ten in the first few minutes of play. The second quarter ended with Broadmoreland seventeen, Redridge fourteen. Broadmoreland was gaining slowly. The third quarter dragged. Each team seemed to be saving its strength for the last quarter and little advance was made. Broadmoreland still led by a margin of five. Redridge's coach began replacing the weakest players with fresh substitutes- Still Ted was not sent in. His glance wandered again to the spectators in search of that color, red. He needed it to spur him on. Now the fourth quarter was on. Redridge mude a neat basket. Broadmoreland led now by only three. Lanier, guard, had fallen. The coach was glancing wildly around for a substitute when he espied Ted. Do you think you can do it? he demanded roughly. Just try me and see, he answered seriously. Well, hustle in there and we'll see. Now Ted was in the midst of the battle. The plucky little forward scored a bas- ket, leaving Broadmoreland ahead by one point. Everything blurred. He saw nothing but the brown oval coming through the air to him. He grasped it and glanced wildly around. There was no one near. He must try. He remembered all the counsel he had ever been given: Keep cool. He took careful aim and the ball sailed through the air to the basket, wavered a moment on the edge, and then went in. Redridge was leading, twenty-three to Broadmoreland's twenty-two. Only two minutes to play! Would Broadmoreland score? Redridge tightened her defense. One minute left. Then the fxinal gun. Redridge had triumphed over her old rival. Ted Slab Morrel was t e ero. Far up in the balcony a girl with red hair was waving like the rest. Her pre- diction had come true. Ted was a star. Funny about that color, red! -ELLEN Ni:sBi1 r. Emu1 i rum i.

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x fact that he represented a New York firm which held the mining rights of the region known as Wild Rose Gulch. His purpose was to find a famous vein which had disappeared from the Gold Links Mine when nn avalimce had covered the tunnels in which it was located. -A great deal of effort had been wasted in seeking it, but all traces of it has been wiped out. So the mine had been closed as a losing proposition. When Langdon reached the property, he was met by thewatchman, a very peculiar person about whom many stories had been told. Some said that he had a treasure hidden in one of the old tunnels, but Langdon took no stock in the tale. The next morning, while hunting deer, he took refuge in an old tunnel to save him- self from a blinding snow storm. Having nothing to do, he started to explore the tunnel, which apparently was in good condition, After going about a mile, he came to n fork, one passage going to the right and the other to the left. With the same light- heartedness that had helped him so often in the war, he flipped for it, tails right, heads left- The coin fell with tails up, so with a smile he started down the right passage which apparently had been recently blasted. After going about ten feet, he heard a noise, but moving very cautiously, he pro- ceeded. Immediately a shot rang out and a wild high-pitched laugh followed as Lang- don fell. A man appeared with drawn revolver, and Langdon almost gave himself up as he recognized the watchmang but lying perfectly still, he waited. The watchman approached, and, thinking his victim beyond human aid, slipped the revolver into its holster, only to be covered by an automatic that was held by a firmer hand than his. Having bound his prisoner, Langdon started to see what it was that the old man had so zealously guarded. Before he had gone five feet, the tunnel opened into a small cavern through which ran a stream. Close at hand stood an ore car, half-filled with rock that had been taken from a vein in the wall. Picking up a lump, he saw that it was indeed like that speciman he had seen once before from the famous vein that had been the object of his search. Iletracing his steps, Langdon took his prisoner to the bunk house where the watchman told his story. Well, said the man, I took this job because I hoped that I might find the Lost Vein. At first I searched all the open tunnels. I wasted about six months doin' that but I never found anythin . Then I wasted another six months explorin' the hills, hopin' I might find some Sew, but that didn't do any good, either. I was about to 'chuck' the job when it seemed to me that maybe the stream had gold in its gravely so I started to pan it. I didn't get much but it was enough to keep me from leavin'. Later I moved up the stream until I came to where it emerged from the mountain. There was a pretty big hole, so, not havin' anything to do, I started to explore it. One day I came across traces of gold that farther along became a vein, without a break in it. It looked pretty good to me, so I sent a piece to the assaye-rs. The report came back that it was the richest ore they had seen. Then I knew that I had found the vein, and right then I began to take the ore out. But I had an awful time gettin' it out through the cavern, and I began to plan how it could be done a better way. Goin' tothe d office one day, I found the blue prints of the tunnels. Soon I saw that if I blasted about fifteen feet of rock I could reach a tunnel that was still in good repair. So I brought some dynamite and blasted a passage. Then I laid some track and started to work in earnest. Langdon sat absolutely still for a few minutes and then, I'm going to let you go under one condition, he said, and that is that you continue to work here. l'll see to it that you get a better position than you now have. Two weeks later Langdon turned in his report and received as a reward the general managership of the Gold Links Mine. JOHN HARKNESS. The Inspiration of Red The potency of that color, red. Did you ever notice it? How it is invariably as- sociated with exciting events! What else does the daring toreador in the bull fights of old Spain flaunt before the bull than a cloak of red? The red flag symbolizes anger. and there must be something which produces patriotism in that color, red, for out of fifty-nine flags in Webster's fifty-one use red in their color combinations. But to take a step nearer our story. Was it not a Red Grunge who was proclaimed the greatest . V . 1... . v 1 -. ..... . . Emln-x'--ru'u

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The Legend of the Devils Hopyaurd In the pleasant country of Eastern Massachusetts, just outside the village of Dalton, there lies a wild and picturesque tract of land that is known as the Devil's Hopyard. A brook, which flows along pleasantly enough before, becomes a thing of sparkling water- falls and mysterious whirlpools here: and trees and shrubbery grow thick and dark, and in one place a heap of half-rotted timbers shows that at some time there was a building at that spot. It seems a fitting place for the execution of some dark crime- but the villagers of Dalton tell another story. Many, many years ago there dwelt in Dalton one Jacob Green, a staunch supporter of the church, a firm believer in the doctrine of predestination, and withal, the possesser of one of the best farms in the vicinity, as well as of two sons, Joseph and John. Joseph was the pride of the village-a devoted sun, a conscientious though somewhat stupid student. John, on the contrary, was a handsome, quick-witted, mischief-loving lad who, according to the villagers, was never on the right side of anything. John, being of a logical turn of mind, seeing the reputation he had built up in the village and thinking it too firmly established in the minds of the people for hope of reforming, proceeded to make it worse by amusing himself throwing paper wads in school, creating a commo- tion wherever he went-growing more adept every year in the art of assuming inno- cence when he had it not. At length in his sixteenth winter, matters came to a crisis. He committed an of- feiise for which he was tried at once and sentenced to a month in the Hadden county Jai . The month passed pleasantly for the young thief. The jail itself was an ancient wooden building, consisting of but one room, whose windows were barred by rusty iron gratings. If he had been so inclined, John could have broken out easily. But he was away from his fathcr's lectures, away from lessons and church attendance, and best of all, his companion in imprisonment was an Indian, who entertained him with all sorts of outlandish tales. John's time was up at last, and one snowy afternoon he started to walk the seven miles from the jail to his home. Half way there he spied his father and brother in the family carriage, also bound for home. Oh, father! Oh, Joseph! he called. They paid no attention to him. He ran and overtook them. Why, father, he said, aren't you glad to see me safe and sound again? I tell you, it will seem very good to get home to a hot fire once more, and mother making hot tea-. Stop! cried Jacob in wrathful tones. We've heard of your actions while you were in jail. You are no longer any son of mine, John! with which he whipped up the horses and soon left John far behind. For a few minutes the lad was indeed bewildered. He knew that none of the other villagers would take him in. There remaind a last resort,-Squire Thornton, the wealth- iest man in the village, who was of the same nature as John. To Squire Thornton's then he made his way, That jolly man and his fairy-like daughter Evelyn heard his story and made him welcome. The next day the Squire offered to send him away and give him a chance to make his fortune, an ofier which he joyfully accepted. . i'And when I come back, he told Evelyn privately, I shall marry you and we shall live in a fine house down by the falls. The next evening, just at dusk, a carriage in which were seated the devil fall of Dalton saw his horns, tail and cloven hoofsj nnd John Green,drawn atasupernaturally rapid rate of-speed by an immense black horse, clattered down the main street of the village and disappeared in the wild and lonesome region below the falls, During .the years of John's absence from the village, Joseph and Samantha Briggs, the grave-digger's daughter, were engaged to be married. One Sunday, just as the wedding party of Joseph and Samantha was issuing from the church, an exceedingly smart travelling carriage, with a solitary inmate, passed on the road to Squire Thorn- ton s. The traveler, though none of the village recognized him, was in truth none other than John Green, who wascoming back to Evelyn, having made an immense fortune in the West Indian trade. Within the next few days it, was known all through the country EIGIITY-rnrun