Sugar Salem High School - Blue and White Yearbook (Sugar City, ID)

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“Guess that ' ll hold him for awhile,” wheezed Mr. Benton, as he went through the doorway to his own room. “Never mind the theatre tonight,” he mused as he viewed himself in the mirror, and carefully arranged his own slightly disfigure d attire. “I ' ll sit quietly for awhile and smoke a bit.” His cigarette case was not in his pocket. “Wonder if he took that too?” he thought, “it’s silver.” He searched the room and finally took up the traveling clothes he had recently laid off. In the hip pocket of the trousers was the silver cigarette case. Also there seemed to he something else — something which cracked at the touch. “Heaven have mercy on me! ' he groaned and dropped weakly into a chair. Will Drake was washing his discolored and altered face when a bell boy came to his door and handed him a letter on a tray. He opened it and read the following communication: My dear sir: I am far too upset to see you personally. I have no excuse for this evening’s conduct, but my own un- governable temper. For the time being, I beg that you will accept the enclosed check for five hundred dol- lars, for the injuries you have suffered at my hands. Very humbly yours, Benton. Mr. Benton, in tuurn, later in the evening received this: Dear Mr. Benton: The matter of the enclosure of five hundred dollars must he considered. I assuure you I could nevei accept it as a gift, and my first impulse was to destroy the check; hut I will wait to give it proper consi lei a- tion tomorrow, and I may decide to accept it as a temporary loan, to be returned to you at my own conven- ience. I am, sir, Truly yours, William Drake.

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hospitality from the man, so they said goodnight, and Benton went to his room to put on a coat. From his breast pocket he took a wallet, and gk need into it. There were a few small bills. He tliot of the hundred dollars recently acquired. He took up the waistcoat and went thru the pockets, finding nothing but a handful of matches. He stared out of the window at the lighted building opposite and considered. Quickly he went over in his mind the little affair of cashing the check and putting the currency into his pockets. Then he thought with a sickening suspicion of the talk with his young friend. “My goodness!” he exclaimed in horror, “that hoy’s a common, low pickpocket.” He paced the room agitately, thinking of Drake’s financial straits. “Perhaps he was really driven to crime by his distress,” he decided. “I can’t have him arrested; I haven’t the heart to do it. But, I won’t stand for being robbed like that.” He sought Mr. Drake in the lobby, and other places. Finally he located him in his room where the young man had gone for rest. “Come in,” said Drake in response to a knock. The door swung open and Mr. Benton entered. “Give me that money,” he cried. “What do you mean?” said Will turning paie. “I want that hundred right away,” shouted Benton. “You get out or I’ll have you put out.” cried Drake, in angry astonishment. “You’re crazy Benton. I don’t know anything about any hundred.” “Mv heaven,” roared the ferocious Benton, “You’re a thief. But I’ll have satisfaction. Keep the money for all the good it’ll do you,” and without further loss of time he advanced upon his friends, and began beating him. In a couple of minutes the conqueror declared himself satisfied. Will Drake looked as though he had been put through a threshing machine.

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THE FIRST SNOWFALL. There is nothing as pleasant after a long dreary day than to wander out in the evening when it is quietly snowing. Not a sound is heard, every tring is soft and peaceful. The moon, obscured by falling snowflakes, sheds a soft, pale light on the scene; the trees become white, and the brown earth is made to change its color. These downy snowflakes we find are even clinging to us, our clothing is white with a cuddling mass of them; some in their delight fly in our faces, some cling tenderly to stray locks of hair, and others dart aim- lessly here and there. In an hour or so we are surprised, for the snowflakes have ceased falling and the moon is smiling bright- ly on the glittering white scene, which we are ourselves are prone to admire. N. A. R. Ik. ' •V ' iW ' %, A SPRING BLOSSOM. She stood beneath the trees, dressed in a dainty white pinafore. Her chestnut brown hair hung in curls and ringlets around her pretty face. Her dark large eyes of brown, half shaded by silken lashes, spark- led like laughing sunbeams peeping from a dewy sky of summer showers. Her lips were the shape of cupid’s bow — the color of red ripe cherries. Her ear the pink of the coral, over which she had hung a cluster of cherries. A drop of dew rested on a lock of her hair— the sun made it a diamond. She was Sprng’s innocence and truly Spring’s fairest blossom.