Butler High School - Magnet Yearbook (Butler, PA)

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THE SENIOR INI AG N E T 9 Would he ever see him again? Yes, he would, and soon at that. It was the third week after the news of the gold strike that Dick Bennet found himself in Boron, now a bustling camp. He was walking about the camp inquiring where the best strikes were being made so that he might stake one out for himself. He came upon a group of men gathered in a ring in which there was a tumult of legs and arms thrashing about. He inquired of a fellow standing near what it was all about anil got the reply. “Well, it seems that two fellows came into camp about two and a half weeks ago and one of them was almost killed by a dog he was unharnessing. His pardner, that’s him on the bottom now getting pounded to pieces, was beating the dog to death when another man, the one who’s on the top now, stopped him and took the dog away. Now they’re fighting it out and the one who wins gets the dog.’’ Finally the struggle ceased and the winner arose, his clothes torn to shreds, and commenced to walk away amid cheers when Dick rushed up and grabbed his arm. “Why, hello Bill old boy, what are you doing, scrapping over a mere dog?’’ and it was the same man who used to tramp the street with Dick. “Well, you’ll see if you come to the house.” So they went to the house and as they opened the door, a large dog rushed upon Dick’s companion and tried to lick his face. Then seeing a stranger, he backed away until he caught the scent of his old master, for he did not recognize him as he had grown a mustache and also was not shaven. Dick saw and knew the dog. “Why, Chap can it be you!” And the dog leaped to his old friend who luckily had found him unexpectedly, and there certainly was a joyful night spent in that cabin, and Dick thanked his friend over and over for having saved his dog Chap. -B.H.S GRADUATION Floyd Bowers When it comes to graduation All we Seniors feel quite blue, Tor we must part from one another, Quite sad but still ’tis true. In our four years of study, East each other we do fly, Never realising the strong friendship That we build here bye and bye. Hut after we just know each other, And all the faces grow familiar, Graduation comes along and from us Their faces it does sever. In future years, when we look back, Sad thought will come into our mind When we just then begin to wonder Where the others we could find. Some may leave our memory shortly, Others not so brief a time; That’s one reasoti why graduation Does not sweetly with us chime.

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8 THE SENIOR [MAGNET a week had passed. Dick had hardly noticed how large a place the friendship of the clog held in his heart until after the disappearance of Chap. So it continued for a year until the gold strike of Boron was made and the great rush of ’92 started. In the meantime what had happened to Chap, lie had not been killed by an auto nor struck down by a street car. Not him, he was too quick to be caught napping after living all his life in this bustling city. No, he had been coaxed by a tempting morsel of meat just far enough inside a door which was quickly slammed shut upon him, holding him in a small room. His two captors overpowered him after quite a struggle and he was thrown into a dirty crate where he was cramped for room. These two men were Pete Sanders and Joe Cowan, who were preparing for a prospecting trip into the north, and as their means were limited they were catching what few good dogs they could and would ship these north on a boat. This was carried out ana Chap experienced no gentle handling or care, but was kicked about and cuffed at the slightest resistance on his part. When they arrived north, the first news of the Boron strike was going out to the world and these two counted themselves lucky. They hitched their mixed team to a heavy sled loaded to the utmost with supplies. The day after their starting, a thawing spell broke the long cold month and melted the snow enough to cause it to stick to the runners and make the pulling hard. But the men did not take this inti consideration and, crazy to reach and stake out their claims, lashed their spent dogs until they whined. Did Chap whine? No, he never thought of that, he only growled the more fiercely each time the lash fell on the quivering back. This continued all the way to the camp in spite of the advice given by Bill Menton who happened to be following the two prospectors to the same camp. When they arrived, there was only Chap and one other dog left as the rest had weakened and been left strewed along the trail to die. This made it that the two men had to lay hold of the harness themselves and help to pull the sled. They laid down their whips and Pete went to unfasten the one dog while Joe went to release Chap, who haci been lying on the snow resting as it seemed. But this was not so. He was watching Joe, who laid down the whip which had stung him so many times that day, and now was crouching for Joe. Joe was within three feet of Chap when he sprung straight at Joe’s unprotected neck. But Chap had not counted on the harness fastened to him and the heavy load. This shortened his reach and he only tore the flesh on the side of the neck. Pete, hearing Joe yell and fall dripping with blo(xl from his wound, grabbed a whip and lashed the struggling dog back from his victim. The few men near ran towards the disturbance and helped to carry the wounded man into an adjoining shack where he was attended. After looking to the comfort of his partner, he returned to the dog and commenced lashing him. Just then Bill Menton came up and struck the whip from his hands. “What’s the idea of beating that tired dog?” questioned Bill, who had a soft spot in his heart for dogs. “Why, he came near killing my pard-ner just now when he went to unharness the cur,” and he struck the dog again with the whip he had picked up. “And another thing, you mind your own business.” Bill pulled his gun and made Pete hand over the dog, now hardly able to stand on his bleeding feet. “I guess I’ll take care of it until you are in a better mood and your pardner well,” he told Pete, while petting the dog. Chap well remembered how he used to be patted by his last friend.

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10 T H E S E N10 R fM A G N E T Buddies Ella Snydek Early in 1917 there came to America a plea, a clarion call for help, and America said, “We are coming, Lafayette.” So Red went into service among the very first, and, in camp became famous for two things, one his everlasting smile, the other his skill as a potato peeler. llis captain was a jolly fellow, half dreamer and half soldier, a man with high ideals and a friendly heart, whom the boys called “Cappy.” He was beloved by his boys because he could shoot a “cruel crap” and play a straight game of poker—and he was a born mixer. Perhaps you don’t quite get the connection between Red and Cappy, so I’ll explain. At first it was Cappv’s keen sight at inspection which caused a private interview—Red had a button olf. “What’s your name?” Cappv asked. “Red,” with a grin. “Red who?” “My full and baptismal name is George William Henry—” “That’s enough,” interrupted Cappy, smiling. “I’ll call you Red. Now, sir. you know you are supposed to keep all the buttons on your clothes, don’t you?” “Yes, sir,” with a grin. “You know there is a punishment for disregard of such rules, don’t you?” “Yes, sir.” “Well,” and Cappy stroked his chin, “would you prefer a week in the guard house, or a week potato peeling?” “Guard house, for mine,” Red told him. “Urn, hum, you may peel potatoes, beginning at noon.” And so Red peeled potatoes, improving with practice, and Cappy watched and smiled. Private interviews were frequent (for Red was only a Ereckles grown up), but somehow Cappy’s punishment lacked a sting and the two soon became friends with an attachment as deep and lasting as it was unvoiced. And then they were sent “Over There,” to a country, trapped, bleeding, despairing, such was Erance. At this time every man was needed, no one could be spared if he could hold a gun. In the Erench army there were fathers standing side bv side with their sons, and even grandfathers were not exempt. Women had given over the housework to the small children and the aged grown ups. Every eligible person fled to the munitions factories and turned out as much war supplies as the country’s fast diminishing resources could command. Times were hard; Hindenburg was coming, faster, nearer, relentlessly! In Paris the fussed ladies were packing their band boxes and preparing to flee at a moment’s notice. And then “ They came! A million Yankee boys, hurrying, grim and strong to fight for a country’s ideals.” And smiling still in red-haired radiance came Red and Cappy. The Company stopped at a little town which was battered as a hero’s helmet, and awaited orders. 1'here was no time to play, however, for orders came almost immediately, a scout was to report the chances for an advance. Cappy knew his two best scouts, the two who would learn most and risk least —Red and a fellow called Ham. He could recall many good points in both, but neither was the better. He called them in and settled the question by a tossed coin—Ham must go. He went, equipped with telephone, wire cutters, a grin, and instructions to report