University High School - Cub Yearbook (Oakland, CA)

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Here you are, Mrs. Brown. Not a word now, he added warningly as she started to thank him. I think we'll he goin' now, jim. He started for the door, followed by his companion. Suddenly he turned. Uh, by the way, Mrs. Brown, when's your man comin'?', About half-past ten.'l X'Vell, good-bye, and thanks for the breakfast. God bless you ! breathed Mrs. Brown fervently. Wlhen they were seated on the wagon once more, jim turned to him. cr cf XfVell, you'1'e a nice one! he spluttered. f'VVhat's the matter? Turnin' friend 0' the poor? Half of that money's mine and you'll have to pay me. I did as much o' that job as you, Jess James, and if it hadn't been for me the watchman would a' seen us, an' you'd be behind the bars this minute. lt's all right, jim. Don't get excited, said the other eooly. Oh, yes it's all right. But where's my two hundred ? Jess made no reply, but took out his watch and looked at it. Twenty-five after, he said. XVe'll have to turn in here. He jerked the reins sharply and the horse turned to the left and pulled them through an open- ing in the bushes that lined the road. XVhoa, there! shouted Here's where we stop, jim. Now get down and make it quick. Got everything ready? I'll tie the horsef, A few moments later the grasping Mr. Atkins took his leisurely way down the road. He had just left the little farmhouse, and he was rustling the mort- gage-money in his pocket. At a turn in the road two masked men sprang out, knocked him senseless, and relieved him of all his valuables. Hours later the james boys were seated in the back room of a small saloon in the next state, whither they had fled that morning. Jess sighed contendedly. I call that a pretty good clay's work, jim, he said. XfVe got a hundred dollars' interest on our loan. HELEN SCHMIDT, '18 We , l

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A Bit of Speculation CC NYTHING in sight yet, Jess? I dont' think the old nag will hold out much longer. The speaker was a short, dark man. He and his com- panion, who was tall and lanky, but who resembled him in features, was driving along a deserted country road. Their wagon was dilapitated and the horse seemed to be on his last legs. In spite of the fact that it was early in the morn- ing, the poor beast was tired out. Farm house down beyond that bend, drawled the other, pointing with his whip. 'KI guess we'd better stop there for breakfast. A few moments later the wagon pulled up in front of the farmhouse, and the men descended from the high seat. It was a small house with a large, neatly-kept vegetable garden around it. Jess and his friend entered the yard. The latter seemed rather nervousg but .less advanced boldly and knocked on the door. It was opened by a stout, middle-aged woman, who looked at her early visitors inquiringly. Morning, Madame, said .less gallantly, as he removed his cap. May we have the honor of breakfasting with you? VVe have ridden hard all night, and are tired and hungry. The woman looked at him for a moment, but evidently assured of his hon- esty, replied: Sure, come on in. I ain't got much this mornin' but such as it is, you're welcome to it. They went into the house. The breakfast was very good, and both fell to with such heartiness that the woman was amazed. Between mouthfuls .less talked to her. Nice little garden you got out there, Nlrslf' Brown, she supplied. Yes, it is nice, ain't it? lim afraid it won't be nice much longer though. W'hy, how's that? XVell, you see, this farm is mortgaged. l been tryin' to pay it off ever since Dave died. He's my boy that was killed in the war. But Mr. Atkins, the man what's holdin' it, is comin' today. If I don't pay him every cent, he'll put me out, because he did that to the Merrills, the people that lived in the next farm, when they couldn't pay all their rent money. He's an awful grasping man. And he's mean where money's concerned. I donlt know what I'll do,-I haven't a dollar to my name. ' jess looked interested. How much is it, Mrs. Brown 7, he asked. Four hundred dollars, the response came tearfully. The other man looked uneasily at jess, who nodded at him reassuringly, then reached down in his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills that made the good woman's eyes bulge.

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San Carlos De Carmelo A vale close by the ocean Opens out on Carmel Bay, NYhere white sands meet the water And gleam 'neath the sun's bright ray. The calm, blue waters stretching To Lobus' rugged height, Relieet its fieece-crowned mountain As Crystal mirrors might. The peaks that skirt the valley. Are rocky, rough, and steep, Like great and hoary guardians Their silent watch they keep. In this vale, close by the ocean, Where all is now a dream, 'Miclst Helds of rippling grasses, A Mission reigns supreme. San Carlos de Carmelo, 'Twas called in Clays gone by, So named by Spanish Fathers XVho 'neath its altar lie. The wall and time-worn buttress, Now falling in decay, Gnce shadowed Indian warriors And festive Spaniards gay. The lonely bell in the belfry, So silent now and sad, Recalls old times at the Mission, Xifhen its peal was always glad. It sees again the Indians XVl1o came from far and near, XVhen sounded its clear-toned ringing, The Fathers' words to hear. The cloister walls have crumbled, The stairways, dropt apart, And yet, this spot, still hallowed, Is dear to every heart. MARION BRANDT, December 'IS