Horace Mann High School - Memories Yearbook (Maryville, MO)

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under my feet. I stepped back but too late. Down I went in- to a deep, dark trap. Pcndering my fate, II heard voices. nBe careful, he's a wild oneln 'Hold this sideg all right now, all togetheran Slowly I was raised to the top of the pit. A shout of amazement and consternation went up when my form came into view. I blinked and looked aroundg the first man I saw was, of all people, Alan Garrison. The mutual recognition was almwc lhstsntaneous. After 'a few inquiries, Alan led me back to his camp. On the way, he explained that he was a taxidermist on an expedition trapping wild game for the Museum of Natural Arts. When I arrived in camp who should I see seated there but Charlie Doran. I immediately assumed that he was following his great ambiti on--to become a Wild- life Conservation Agent. Upon question I learned he was pre- serving parakeets. After a few days rest, I was takento the boat going to North America. At last I was going home! In a few days and after what seemed like a long journey, we docked. As I walked down the gang plank I could I' hardly believe my eyes which revealed a scene identical to that which I had left. I asked a hurrying dock hand where I was. nwhy South Africa, Sirin- and he continued on his way. I went into a small office building to ask about passage to the U. S. After waiting sometime for someone to appear, I turned dejectedly and sat down in a chair. I heard footsteps and a surprised voice exclaiming. nwell Mr. Babb of all peopleln Turning to see who would recognize me in a foreign country, I saw Twyla McFarland! We exchanged a few pleasant- ries and I learned that she had become a Missionary in South Africa trying to civilize the Cannibals and Headhunters .' I was assured without asking that she had encountered many thrilling escapades. I planned to stay for two weeks. But that night when I went to bed it began to tremble and shake until I had to clutch the sides to keep from falling out. As suddenly as it started, it stopped. Whenl openedmy eyes, which I had closed in terror, Ivsaw that it was daylight. I glanced curiously around deducting that I was on a ranch. A sudden pounding of hoofs and I saw a dashing figure on a sparkling white horse. He pulled rein beside me and said. nCan't you read, 'No Trespassing'?n I lboked up amazedland recognized Wayne Gard, owner of the Bar-None ranch. The freezing temperature was certainly a change from the hot, humid tropics. Wayne has just Started telling me about his career and all the time the cold became