Betty Lee, Senior

by Harriet Pyne Grove

Who does not remember the Don, otherwise known as Ramon Balinsky? He is the man who came to fame after Freddy Fisher and in turn was followed by “Kentucky,” our synonym for victory.

The Don was the man of mystery. We always knew that he had some romantic history and it turns out that he was the victim of a frame-up in his native land. Separated from his relatives, who feared that he was dead, not knowing what had become of them, he drifted here, always followed by the villains of the piece.

Last summer he was kidnapped and almost killed, though rescued by friends that included some of our most prominent seniors. It made a romantic tale of the Maine coast, stolen jewels and smuggled liquor. The Don has been to Spain and it is whispered that he has even talked to the king. He has regained his stolen property and while he goes now by the name of Sevilla, no one knows just what his rank may or may not be.

However, the Don makes a fine American and until he thinks best to return to his native land, he has established a home for his mother and sister and is going to work for the Murchison Company. The Roar congratulates him and says, “Long live the Don!” Good work, Ramon. The cheer squad will now lead in Lyon High yells for the Don, and the band will strike up “El Capitan!”

It was true that a quiet little place had been chosen by Ramon for his mother and sister, who could now rest from most of her labors and all of her anxieties. For the present Ramon was to be found suitable work, in one of the Murchison interests, which would take care of them all and begin to settle the loan which he had accepted in Spain.

One curious feature about Betty’s new relation with Larry Waite was that her family knew practically nothing about it. She had no desire to keep anything from her mother, in one respect, but she had really seen so little of Larry, and under such circumstances when she did that it was not natural to speak of it. Mrs. Lee had noted Betty’s depression and a little change of manner, and while attributing it chiefly to her being tired with all the various enterprises, she wondered if seeing so much less of Chet was worrying her at all. “After Commencement,” Betty thought, “they’ll see.”

Chet, on the other hand was not worrying Betty in the least. He had seemed not to like it particularly that Betty was Larry’s partner at supper on that eventful evening, but Chet was not much older than Betty and like her had had no real experience with a deep attachment. Just now he was absorbed in his work and a university fraternity. He and Ted with a few others came around in a car one afternoon to carry Betty off to a picnic party on the Dorrance grounds, but aside from that there were no “dates.” It was a natural dropping of rather too constant attention and Betty was glad to think that her budding romance would not bring any particular pain to Chet.

Mathilde, whose chief interest was in those lines and whose town acquaintance was wide, took some little pleasure, Betty thought, in repeating something that Jack had told her. “I hear that you are being cut out, Betty, with Chet,” said she.

“How is that?” asked Betty, knowing that Mathilde wanted to have her ask that very thing.

“Jack says that Chet has a new girl—I forget her name, a new member of Chet’s class. Chet’s taking her around quite a little. I hope you don’t mind.” Mathilde looked at Betty curiously. Perhaps that was what was the matter with Mathilde, curiosity.