Banning High School - San Gorgonian Yearbook (Banning, CA)

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Neither of the boys could find a word to say. Finally Bob blurted out: “Well—by the way, have you girls dates for the next class party?” “Sorry to say, we have. O, don’t look so gloomy about it, Twid. I never saw such an old sober-sides as you are tonight. Grouchy, buh?” Twid didn’t have a chance to answer, for Bob, glancing at the clock, grabbed him by the arm and, remarking about being late for their appointment, the two strode out of sight down the main aisle. When they entered the president’s office they noticed a drawn look on his face. He was sitting at his desk and, without looking at the boys, waved them to a seat. A deep silence fell on the room. Bob sat motionless, but Twid nervously fingered his cap. Finally President Stearns said: “Well, Albert (Twid was his college nickname), I have taken up this matter with the Board and they are firm in their decision to dismiss you from the college. I asked them to give you another chance, but you know that money affair last year is against you. They refuse you another chance.” Twid swallowed hard. Bob stepped up to the desk, extended his hand to the presi- dent, and said: “President Stearns, we both feel it is for the best. I'll stick by Twid, as I promised Mother before she died, and some- thing gives me a hunch that we will win out yet. We'll go West and begin over again.” Twid, with eyes averted, offered his hand to the president, who, seizing it in both of his, clasped it firmly while neither spoke a word. Chapter II One night, as they sat around their campfire counting out their savings, Twid said: “Bob, if the range is as good next year, old Peck says he will take me into partnership. We haven't lost more than a dozen critters this whole season. If you get boosted to chief engineer in the ‘Boss’ mine I'll say we will be ‘livin’ easy on pork chops greasy’ one of these days.” “ Twid, I guess you had better be going into Sandy Point and put our roll in the bank. I don’t like the idea of having much cash on hand in these parts.” “Right you are, Bob; let’s both go!” “No, not this time, Twid. Get Buck to go with you. He knows everybody and every cow path in the country. You two go in, put up at the hotel and take in a ‘movie.’ How does that sound? “Say, like a dream; don’t wake me!” As the two cowpunchers entered Sandy Point, after a ninety- mile ride across cacti and sand dunes, it seemed like entering the suburbs of a metropolis. The little town of two hundred or so was bustling with tourists. It was noon and Twid and Buck made a bee-line for a restaurant. On the way, as they were passing a ser- [Page Twenty-six]

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cK Ay) A Lucky Trip to Sandy Point FIRST PRIZE STORY SARAH COVINGTON, ’25 Chapter | The chimes in the tower of the library were striking eight when aman slightly stooped emerged from the shadows of the tall maples bordering the walk and mounted the steps leading to the main door of the building. As he passed under the electroliers which stood at either side of the long marble steps, the roundness of his shoulders was more defined, and under the edge of his soft-brimmed hat a fringe of white hair was visible. He entered the building and the heavy door closed gently behind him. Amos Stearns, for that was his name, was the much-beloved president of Wester College. To him every student went for ad- vice and encouragement. His serious, but kindly, face seemed to cause perplexities to fade away and his solution in every instance was never questioned. This evening his face seemed more serious than usual and his figure more stooped as he walked down the main aisle of the library and entered a room on the door of which were the words: “President’s Office. Please Walk In.” Fifteen minutes later an automobile came to a stop directly in front of the library. Two young men stepped out and started im- mediately toward the building. One was tall and of athletic build: the other muscular, but shorter by several inches. The taller one wore a dark suit with a dark cap set squarely on his head: the other, a light grey suit with a red and plaid cap set at a rakish angle. Neither lifted his eyes, nor spoke a word. The reading room was filled with students when the boys en- tered. Two girls not far from the door motioned for them to come over. “Hello, Bob and ‘Twid,’ where are you going looking like a million dollars?” [Page Twenty-five]

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oe vice station, Twid spied a car with a Wester College pennant tack- ed across the back. It was piled high with camp equipment, but no occupants were visible. He stopped, hesitating whether to dis- mount and go over to the car or to ride on, when Buck’s em- phatically expressed opinion of folks who didn’t know enough to eat when they were hungry, especially when they had a chance to dine like white folks, decided the question for him. They entered the restaurant and took places near the door, in order to watch the traffic pass. A tourist party consisting of a young man, his two sisters and mother, came in and seated them- selves in the corner of the room, facing Twid. “See, I told you, Leonard, that was Twid Rector that rode past that service station. I'll bet you a thousand dollars that is he.” “By gum, Jean, I believe you're right. Nell, you take a look. “Leonard, you and Jean make me sick. You are always seeing some one you think you know. If he were Twid Rector, what of it? Who is he? You certainly haven’t forgotten the ‘rep’ he had in college?” Nell, I wouldn’t be so keen to remember things about people as you are for anything. Leonard, let’s go over to his table and find OUUe “Mother, can’t you stop those two crazy kids? The idea of renewing acquaintance with Twid Rector!” But the two were out of their chairs and across the room be- fore “mother” had time to say a word. They stopped facing Twid, who looked up carelessly, but almost at the same instant looked again. The recognition was mutual. Rising, he exclaimed: “Jean and Leonard Lindsey! For the love of Mike, explain yourselves! Are you lost, strayed or stolen?” “No, guess again. How’s old Twid, anyway?” as Leonard gave him a resounding slap on the back, college style. Oh, Twid, you don’t look the least bit grouchy now. I knew you the minuite I saw you back there by the service station. We were across the street mailing some letters and I saw you looking at the pennant on our car.” Twid gripped hard on the edge of the table. “Oh, let me in- troduce my friend, Buck Sanders—a fellow cowpuncher.” “By the way, where is Bob?” asked Leonard. “An engineer for the ‘Boss’ mine, about ninety miles from here. He will surely be glad to hear about you, Leonard.” Jean wanted to ask Twid to come over to their table, but a frigid look from Nell showed the inadvisability of such a wish. When she and Leonard returned to finish their dinner, they were greeted by a conversation between Nell and her mother which ignored Twid completely. At the conclusion of the meal, Twid came over to tell Leonard of the round-up the last of the week. Nell was painfully formal; [Page Twenty-seven ]