Four or five eager volunteers scrambled over the footlights. The professor selected the largest of them. "Number six-seventy-six!" John looked eagerly at the coupon which had been handed him at the door. "Number six-seventy-six! Who has it?" Harriette, the cast-off Harriette of last year, bobbed forward. "Ah," boomed the deep voice. "A little girl, and a nice one, too." Harriette stuck one finger in her mouth as she shifted sheepishly from foot to foot. "But the skates are boy's. Isn't that too bad? Now, little girl, do you think you will be satisfied with a nice, new dollar bill instead? Will that buy a good enough pair of skates?" "Jimmy!" John ejaculated enviously. "Number three-forty-four!" he continued, as his volunteer assistant drew out another slip. "And another little girl. Well, she gets this beautiful Brazilian pearl ring, set with wonderful, glistening rhinestones!" The fortunate maiden scurried back to her mother as fast as her stocky little legs could carry her. "Number seven-hundred-fifteen! Number seven-hundred-fifteen!" "Here!" shrieked John, as he nearly knocked the boy ahead of him over in an excited effort to get to the front. "That's me!" Was it another pair of skates, or a baseball bat, or the big, shining jack-knife which the boys had told about? "Number seven-fifteen is a boy, is it?" The professor's eyes twinkled. "Ye--s--sir," stammered John, nervously. "William," ordered the distributor of prizes as he half turned to the exit in the wings. "Bring out that doll carriage!" The house broke into vociferous mirth. Silvey, hailing him at the top of his lungs, counseled him to "Give it to her! Give it to her!" Sid DuPree's face grinned maliciously at him from the first row. Slowly he stumbled down the aisle with the despised toy bumping after him, and rejoined Louise. He scarcely heard the numbers of the other prize winners as they were called out. Nor did he pay attention to the professor's lecture on the operation of the famous whistle which had so amused the audience that afternoon. Someway or other, he found himself out on the street with Louise. About him, boys scampered home in the fast gathering dusk. One or two yelled taunts about the doll carriage, and John was tempted to throw the wicker-bodied pest into the street. Louise was silent. She wanted to offer consolation, for she felt that her escort was dangerously near tears over his humiliation, but she knew not how to begin. They sauntered along. John eyed the little piece of tape bound tin in the girl's hand with reawakening interest. "Would you like it?" she asked graciously. He murmured a husky "yes," and put the whistle in his mouth. After a few uncertain "J-u-u-dys," he trudged on again in silence. As they stopped in front of her apartment, John had an inspiration. "Say, Louise," he began awkwardly, "I don't want this doll carriage. Want it?"