Judge — January 11, 1930 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JUDGE A fencer goes sword-fishing. Max Jollywell’s Fortitude é “Come on, you nine!” pleaded Max Jollywell, his handsome face alight with earnestness. There we he cried, as the ai dice galloped out onto the pine bench, a five and a three!" * “But five and three are eight,” pro. tested Sam Ruddy, as Jollywell reached for the money, “and nine is your point.” Jollywell’s handsome face set stern and his black eyes flashed fire. men’s game, Rud- dy,” nan tone, “and besides, even you right, eight ought to be enough.” “Cheese it,” cried big Horace Twit- here comes a Proctor! Put the bones in your pocket!” There was momentary confusion, as three nearby seniors arose and stalked out into the c January mor casting withering glances at the er. ow you've done it!” hissed Cur- ley Locke, “we won't any of us ever make a senior society after that!” The four sophomores were fast friends, as you may judge from the fact that the contest just interrupted was being held during compulsory Chapel at Yale, and as they parted on the steps after the service, their eyes grew misty at the clasp of hands, for each had a class that day, and they DIVORCE €OURT Fee ES ly “I knew them when- comicbooks.com