more attractive than the anemic-looking yellow girl with whom she was strolling. There was something about this second girl which made Emma Lou feel that she was not easy to approach.
“Good morning.” Emma Lou had evolved a formula.
“Good morning,” the two girls spoke in unison. Helen was about to walk on but Verne stopped.
“New student?” she asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“So am I. I’m Verne Davis.”
“I’m Emma Lou Morgan.”
“And this is Helen Wheaton.”
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Morgan.”
“And I’m pleased to meet you, too, both of you,” gushed Emma Lou. “You see, I'm from Boise, Idaho, and all through high school I was the only colored student.”
“Is that so?” Helen inquired listlessly. Then turning to Verne said, “Better come on Verne if you are going to drive us out to the ‘Branch’.”
“All right. We’ve got to run along now. We'll see you again, Miss Morgan. Good-by.”
“Good-by,” said Emma Lou and stood watching them as they went on their way. Yes, college life was going to be the thing to bring her out, the turning point in her life. She would show the people back in
