Shortridge High School - Annual Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

Page 16 text:

Qcnnnmaceun sc once it My head! my head! he yelled. I have found it! ' Acts like he'd ,lost it, observed Sylvester, and departed to dream of the glory that would be his when the tale was published and the author became known. A The next morning Sylvester read in the paper with great eagerness his solution of the mystery. Another person also read the account with evident interest. 'That person was Lorenzo Reynolds, Doctor of Philosophy and Pro- fessor of Psychology at Hartford. As soon as he had finished reading the report he arose with such vigor as to upset his chair, and hurried to the oHfice of the president of the college. Consequently the edition of the Hartford Daily containing the objec- tionable article was suppressed and a meeting of its reportorial staff was called for that afternoon. Sylvester, seeing the notice of the meeting on the bulletin board, and believing that the publication of his story had. made him a member of the staff, attended. Alas, how was Sylvester to know that Fate had only been' flirting with him! He returned to his boarding house that evening with a blackened eye, a sprained wrist, a summons to appear before the student government council on the following Monday, and, what weighed heaviest upon his erstwhile buoyant spirits, without his most stylish collar and loveliest necktie. ,Sylvester's trial' was short. It soon became clear that the crime had been the result of an amazing state of ignorance, which excused him, according to the student. government rules. In the course of' the trial it also came out that Sylvester had seen the name that had so impressed him in the catalogue of the college. . ' Sylvester's energy and initiative finally gained for him the editorship of the Daily, and recently he secured a captaincy in the army. Being still as game as in the old days, he doesn't mind telling this humiliating experi- ence of- his occasionally. He always ends the tale by saying, Of course, those editors were all but beheaded, and they've kept a strict censorship on the 'Daily' ever since-but anyway, that story got me what I was after-plenty of notoriety! W 1 -MARGARET DUTHIE.

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III! HNIFICEZIR REP RCER HERE was usually something doing when Sylvester Leighton was around, so it is not surprising that things began to happen when he appeared at Hartford College. To his intense disappoint- ment, however, his affairs had progressed with ominous smooth- L- J ness during his first few days at that institution. It had been gif? in vain that he had sported his green hose with cerise clocking, designs. He had begun to despair of making an impression and attaining the notoriety he craved, when he suddenly got an idea. He would become a newspaper man and thrill the populace with his tales in the Hartford Daily. Being a man of action, he straightway bought a copy of the paper and read it earnestly. V 5 his six plaid hat-bands, and his twenty-five neckties in fioral u - Aha!', he exclaimed, pouncing upon the account of the Delta Pi House robbery, It says here,,'A solution of the mystery of the robbery is anxiously awaited? There's my chance! I'll write a solution. With the best of intentions, therefore, Sylvester fell to work. The result of two hours' labor was a solution of the mystery ,exceeding in suspense and plot development the most exciting ten-cent thriller it had ever been Sylves- ter's pleasure to read. He had thought and thought in an effort to find a suitable name for the robber, and at last one occurred to him that perfectly suggested the nefarious character of the villain. In fact, the name, Lorenzo Reynolds, fitted so well that Sylvester could hardly believe that he himself had invented itg he was haunted by a vague feeling that he had heard or read it somewhere. Tucking his masterpiece under his arm, he hurried to the Daily oflice. He was met at the door by an apparently frenzied youth, who was tempera- mentally ruffling his hair and muttering, Oh, for a head! If I only had a head l' What's the matter with your head ? asked Sylvester sympathetically. It's my head-line I'm worrying about, you poor fish! cried this fellow, who was the news editor, giving Sylvester a look that was intended to wither him. Being a good sport, however, Sylvester brazenly returned the Gery glance and presented his manuscript., ' The news editor seized the story appeared to devour it in gulps, and, with- out looking up, exclaimed, You're the detective on the case, aren't you? Some nifty little job! You got this stuff to us just in time. Before Sylvester could speak, the news editor rushed to the editor-in-chief and ecstatically embraced that personage, roughly knocking the editorial pencil from the editorial ear. .

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