David smiled down into the radiant face. What a new dress and hat can do for one small, insignificant little person is quite wonderful sometimes. And Anne, with the money she had earned from Mrs. Gray, had replenished her wardrobe. In her neat brown suit and broad-brimmed hat she was really pretty, in a queer, quiet sort of way, David thought. He wondered if the father, hidden by rows of people, in the back, would be able to see how prosperous and well his daughter was looking. But his attention was recalled to the football field, for the next half was going against the High School, and there was apprehension among the sons and daughters of Oakdale. "Dunsmore! Dunsmore!" cried a delegation from Dunsmore College. But Dunsmore was not to be the victor that Thanksgiving Day. It was ordained that, just as hope had almost expired, a slender, fleet-footed young junior of the High School team should seize the ball and fly like the wind across the line. Score 10 to 1--Oakdale's score! Immediately a terrific hubbub began. Surely the place had gone mad, Anne thought. The hundreds of spectators, including Grace and her party, had rushed from the ampitheater, clambered over the railing and dashed into the field of glory. Such yelling and roaring, such blowing of horns while the hero of the afternoon was carried about on the shoulders of his fellows, made her heart palpitate wildly. Her friends had forgotten all about her, evidently, or perhaps they thought she had followed. "Anne," said a voice in her ear, "don't make any disturbance. I want you to come with me." Anne turned around quickly and faced her father. "Come at once!" he said. "I want to get out of this howling mob as soon as possible. We can talk later." He took her hand, not ungently, and presently they found themselves on the other side of the fence surrounding the field. Anne had not meant to go, but she knew her father was quite capable of making a scene and she felt she couldn't endure it just then. Once outside, she thought she might escape. Never once, however, did he release her hand until he had her safe in one of the town hacks and they had started down the road. When Grace and her friends finally recovered from their wild joy and excitement there was no Anne to be found. "Perhaps she stayed in her seat," exclaimed Grace, but the place was quite empty. David and Jessica looked about them uneasily. "What chumps we were!" said the young man presently. "We never bothered to look after her, and now probably that old parent of hers has actually gone and kidnapped the poor child." They searched through the crowds everywhere, but Anne was nowhere about. At last David and Jessica confessed their suspicions to Grace. "Oh, oh!" cried Grace, "I feel as if we were personally responsible for her! What shall we do?" David thought a minute. "Is there a play at the Opera House to-night?" he asked presently. "I believe there is," replied Grace. "Why?"