Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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THE GOLDEN-ROD 9 dents in college, lie was greatly disliked. Unfor- tunately, he made no secret of his hatred for the popular foot-ball captain. When Dexter had surprised everyone by be- ginning to work hard, his room-mate, Richard Churchill, followed the good example, set by his friend and the social life at Princeton saw them no more, to the great delight of Kirby. II The weeks flew by swiftly. Dexter had takeu all his exams but chemistry, which was the hard- est of all. At last the much dreaded morniug dawned. Phil slept late and when he awoke Churchill was nowhere to be seen. Jumping up hurriedly, he glanced at his watch. “Why! I’ve only ten minutes in which to get to my exams. Dick must have gone.” Not seeing his own coat he snatched up one of Dick’s, which lay over the back of a chair, slipping into it as he ran across the campus. Just as he breathlessly reached the door of the chemistry room, Phil collided with Kirby, who seemed to be waiting for some one. Hastily apologizing, Dexter entered the room, which was already filled with students. Glancing around him, he looked for his room- mate and perceived Dick at the farther side of the room, busily searching for something in his pockets. At this moment, Professor Kirby entered the room with cat-like tread. Everyone became all attention, waiting for his first words. lie began, “The examinations must be written in ink. Those written in pencil will not be accepted.” Then he passed out the type-written list of ques- tions to each student. Upon receiving his, Dexter looked them through and through dazedly. At that instant all the chemistry, which he had studied so hard for the past few weeks, left his mind and to save himself Phil could not answer a single question. Involuntarily, he thrust his hand into his coat pocket. What was that? His fingers closed over an object which was hard and smooth. Not thinking what he did, Phil drew it forth. In his hand lay a long, octagonal pencil, the sides of which had been scraped bare and were covered with finely written chemistry formulae and sym- bols, the exact information which he needed. What could it mean ? How had he come by that pencil ? At that instant a heavy hand was laid upon Phil’s shoulder and the disagreeable voice of the Professor said, “Dexter, what are you doing with a pencil? The exam must be written in ink.” Phil started nervously and with a scarlet face he thrust the pencil back into his pocket, won- dering how he could account for its presence. “Nothing,” stammered the startled fellow. The Professor glanced at him in surprise. Then an incredulous expression passed over his face as he perceived the startled look in Dex- ter’s eyes. “Give me the pencil,” commanded the Professor. Hesitatingly, Phil handed it to him. After examining the pencil carefully, the Pro- fessor said in the hardest of tones, “I am great- ly astonished, Dexter, you may go to the dean.” “But the pencil does not belong to me,” re- plied Phil, and his voice sounded hoarse and un- natural. A sinister expression passed over the profes- sor’s face. “Tell that kiud of stories to the dean,” he answered. This last remark aroused the anger of the greatly puzzled lad. “Very well,” he answered. With his head held high in the air and a defiaut expression in his eyes, Dexter strode from the room, followed by the professor. When they reached the dean's office the pro- fessor told the story ending with, “He says that the pencil is not his.” The dean looked sorrowfully at Phil, who was one of his favorites and said, “My boy, I cannot believe that you would cheat. Surely there must be some mistake. What have you to say for yourself?” “All I can say,” Dexter haughtily replied, “is that the pencil is not mine.” As he was about to continue a terrible thought flashed through his mind. He was wearing Churchill’s coat, and when he had entered the room that morning his room-mate had been busily searching for some- thing, which he did not seem to find. Could it be possible? Churchill a cheat? Never. Then

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8 THE GOLDEN-ROD vet, just a little doubtful as to its practicalness. He left home in fine spirits with his heart keenly alert for the least impulse. When he had gone about half way to the station, he saw a very small boy clinging frantically to a large dog in an effort to restrain him from a passing tramp that the dog had evidently mistaken for his breakfast. Immediately Jones felt an impulse, so according to his theory he quickly acted upon it by going to the boy’s aid. Their combined ef- forts were sufficient to hold the dog until the tramp hurried around a corner. The result of his first impulse was that Jones missed his train and got his neatly tailored clothes covered with dirt and dog hair, but he felt that his first ex- periment was successful. Jones waited patiently for a later train and when it came he got on and sat down directly be- hind a young lady and gentleman. lie began reading his paper as usual because he believed that impulses enough would come to him with- out his looking for them. Subsequent events proved this to be correct for. as he glanced up from his paper for a second, he noticed that the back comb of the young lady was almost out, and that she was in danger of losing it. Instantly R. Asticot Jones felt an impulse and the next mo- ment he was reaching over in his most unobtru- sive manner and was replacing the comb. The young lady quickly put her hand to the back of her head, saw Jones, turned several shades pinker than she was and hurriedly whispered a few short sentences in the young man’s ear. Jones painfully realized that nearly every body in the car was looking and he heard someone say, “And he’s a married man, too.” At the station, as the people were getting off, Jones was stared at as if he were an escaped convict, and not only that, but the young man edged over to Jones’ side and asked to see him outside of the station. Jones started to explain but was told that no explanation would be re- quired until they met outside. Jones did not wait for an impulse, but sneaked out of the back door of the station and jumped into a taxicab, at the same time throwing the driver a bill and telling him to get away from the station in the shortest possible time. The people at the office are still wondering why Jones should drive to the office on such a fine morning. Mrs. Jones has never since made any reference to her husband’s theory, but some- times she smiles when there is apparently noth- ing to smile at. H. M. ’ll J All’s Well That Ends Well I On one of those delightfully drowsy days to- wards the middle of May, Philip Dexter, the most popular senior in Princeton college, sat in his room, busily studying his chemistry. Phil never knew what it meant it study hard until the previous month when he had proposed to Catherine Churchill, his room-mate’s pretty sis- ter. Her answer had been decidedly negative, on account of Dexter’s never having accomplished anything worth while, except upon the foot-ball field. Since then, although there were only three months more of college, he had studied day and night, in order to pass his exams with high rank and principally to please the captivating Miss Churchill. Phil’s father, a multimillionaire, idolized his only son and Mr. Dexter’s chief am- bition was fulfilled when his boy was elected, for two years, captain of the Princeton eleven. There- fore, the lad never had any aspirations for study- ing. Although Phil was very popular, he had an enemy in Allan Kirby, the chemistry profes- sor’s son. The two fellow's had been rivals ever since the time when they had struggled for the same position on the foot-ball team and Dexter had been victorious. Notwithstanding the fact that Kirby was one of the most brilliant stu-

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10 THE GOLDEN-ROD the voice of the dean again came to his ears. “Have you nothing more to say for yourself? Are you sure that the pencil is not yours?” “No,” resolutely answered Phil,” I have no further explanation to make,” and to himself he added. “No one must ever know. I will never tell. Churchill is my best friend and he is her brother, even if he is a cheat.” “Very well, as you will not explain matters, you are expelled. I will notify your father im- mediately.” The voice of the dean trembled with sorrow, for he loved Philip Dexter and he could not believe him guilty of such an offence. Dexter slowly left the room. Ills first thoughts were of Catherine Churchill. What would she think of him ? She was lost to him forever, because he could never tell her that her brother was a cheat. These were the thoughts which filled his mind as several hours later the puzzled and misjudged foot-ball captain was on his way to meet an indignant father in New York. Ill Three years had passed by. One morning in June the large ocean liner, the Sea- Queen. glided out of her dock at New York. The decks were crowded with happy passen- gers, talking and laughing together. Apart from the rest and perfectly oblivious to every thing else, stood a young man, fondly looking into the eyes of a girl at his side. As they stood thus, a young fellow walked by. glanced at them incredulously, started, and finally walked back to where they were standing. Raising his hat he inquired, “Is this Mr. Philip Dexter?” Dexter for it was he, glanced up quickly, then bowed coldly as he recognized his old class-mate,Allan Kirby. Nothing daunted, Kirby continued, “I am very glad I have met you, Dexter, as I have something which I wish to say to you alone.” Greatly surprised, Phil looked down at the girl and as she nodded assent, the two men walked away together. “Of course you remember what happened to you three years ago and you also know how I have always hated you?” began Allan. “I think that all this is unnecessary. What interest can you have in the matter? I was expelled from Princeton for cheating, some- thing which I never did.” interrupted Phil. “No, I know that you didn’t. That’s just what I wish to explain, and I will, if you will promise not to harm me in any way,” very mys- teriously answered Kirby. Phil glanced at him in amazement. Then he replied. “You have my promise.” “Well then,” continued Kirby, “I put that pencil in your pocket.” “What?” gasped Dexter, taking a step to- wards him. “Yes,” answered Kirby. “I waited for you that day outside the chemistry-room. Don’t you remember how we collided in the corridor?” As Phil nodded, he continued, “As we did so, I slipped the pencil into your pocket, trusting to luck that you would be discovered with it during the exam and be expelled. Oil, by the way, I for- got, the night before the exams, when I was look- ing in my father’s desk for something I found the questions and answers. That was what prompted me to make the pencil.” Dexter’s face was white with rage. He took one step towards Kirby but Allan stopped him. ‘ ‘ Don’t forget your promise, ’ ’ he exclaimed. At this, Phil turned away and started to walk off. but Allen interrupted him in a mocking voice, “Say, Dexter, wasn’t there a girl in the case? I’ve always wondered what she had to say.” Dexter quickly turned and a happy smile spread over his face. “If it wasn’t for the fact that, that same girl and I are now on our honey- moon, I’d be tempted to break my promise, and throw you overboard.” With these words he left the astonished Kirby and walked back to where his wife was awaiting him. Arm and arm Mr. and Mrs. Dexter walked away. M. T. ’ll.