Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School

by Josephine Chase

  CHAPTER IX

  THANKSGIVING DAY

  "Oh, how I love Thanksgiving!" cried Grace.

  "Oh, how you love turkey, you mean," exclaimed her bosom friend, NoraO'Malley.

  "Yes," admitted Grace, "the turkey is a grand old bird, bless him, butfootball is what I really love, delightful, thrilling football. I wish Icould play center on the home team. I know I could make a touchdown aswell as the best of them."

  The crowd of young people were seated on straw in the bottom of a largeroad wagon that was slowly making its way from Grace's house out to thefootball grounds. It was decorated with the colors of the Oakdale HighSchool, sea-blue and white, and the girls wore blue and white rosettesand carried long horns from which dangled ribbon streamers. Numbers ofOakdale people were hurrying down the road toward the field, and thecrisp autumn air vibrated with the sounds of talk and laughter. In thedistance could be heard the music of the town band, which always gave aconcert before the Thanksgiving game.

  "And to think that little Anne has never in her life seen a footballgame!" exclaimed Jessica.

  Anne blushed.

  "Yes," she replied reluctantly, "I'll have to admit this is my veryfirst game, but I understand the rules. Grace has explained them to me.I hope our boys will win."

  "If the Dunsmore boys are in good trim, I'm afraid they'll give us astiff pull," observed David, "but the stiffer the pull the moreinteresting it is to watch, so long as they don't lick us."

  Just then the wagon drew up at the grounds and the boys and girls jumpedout and made their way through the crowd to their seats.

  Everybody in Oakdale turned out for the annual Thanksgiving footballgame. The professors and their wives, the teachers from the Girls' HighSchool and all the pupils were there in full force, besides the citizensof Oakdale and their families. There was really a very large assemblagein the semicircular ampitheater which was hung with bunting and flags inhonor of the great occasion, and probably not one in the whole cheerfulcompany but had enjoyed a good Thanksgiving dinner that afternoon, sogood humor beamed from every face.

  "Don't you think this is a thrilling sight, Anne?" demanded Grace, forthere was not a soul in Oakdale who was not vain of the High Schoolfootball team, which had won for itself honors all over the state.

  "Wonderful!" exclaimed Anne, clasping her hands and waiting impatientlyfor the performance to commence.

  Just then the band struck up again, and under cover of the music Davidwhispered to Jessica:

  "Do you see that man over there to the right on the back seat, withlong, dark hair and a slouch hat?"

  Jessica found the individual presently, starting slightly when she sawhis face.

  "I do believe it's Anne's father," she whispered.

  "It just is," said David, "and he's looking hard at Anne, too. I wonderif he means to make another scene."

  "Poor Anne!" sighed Jessica. "She seems to have more than her fair shareof troubles."

  The two teams then filed out for warming-up practice; the excitement ofthe ensuing game drove all thought of the sinister looking Mr. Piersonout of their heads, for the time being. The first half ended in abrilliant touchdown for the High School boys, though the kick for goalfailed. Immediately the place rang with the cheers of the spectators.Crowds of boys rushed up and down giving the High School yell and whenthe noise died down somewhat the girls started the High School song:

  "Here's three cheers for dear old Oakdale, God bless her, everyone!"

  Anne was thrilled. Never had she enjoyed herself so much. She stood uponthe seat beside Grace and waved a blue and white banner as franticallyas anybody else.

  "I don't think I quite understand what it's all about," she confided toDavid, who sat next to her, "but I am very happy all the same."

  David smiled down into the radiant face. What a new dress and hat can dofor one small, insignificant little person is quite wonderful sometimes.And Anne, with the money she had earned from Mrs. Gray, had replenishedher wardrobe. In her neat brown suit and broad-brimmed hat she wasreally pretty, in a queer, quiet sort of way, David thought. He wonderedif the father, hidden by rows of people, in the back, would be able tosee how prosperous and well his daughter was looking. But his attentionwas recalled to the football field, for the next half was going againstthe High School, and there was apprehension among the sons and daughtersof Oakdale.

  "Dunsmore! Dunsmore!" cried a delegation from Dunsmore College.

  But Dunsmore was not to be the victor that Thanksgiving Day. It wasordained that, just as hope had almost expired, a slender, fleet-footedyoung junior of the High School team should seize the ball and fly likethe wind across the line. Score 10 to 1--Oakdale's score!

  Immediately a terrific hubbub began. Surely the place had gone mad, Annethought. The hundreds of spectators, including Grace and her party, hadrushed from the ampitheater, clambered over the railing and dashed intothe field of glory. Such yelling and roaring, such blowing of hornswhile the hero of the afternoon was carried about on the shoulders ofhis fellows, made her heart palpitate wildly. Her friends had forgottenall about her, evidently, or perhaps they thought she had followed.

  "Anne," said a voice in her ear, "don't make any disturbance. I want youto 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 soonas possible. We can talk later."

  He took her hand, not ungently, and presently they found themselves onthe other side of the fence surrounding the field. Anne had not meant togo, but she knew her father was quite capable of making a scene and shefelt she couldn't endure it just then. Once outside, she thought shemight escape. Never once, however, did he release her hand until he hadher 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 andexcitement there was no Anne to be found.

  "Perhaps she stayed in her seat," exclaimed Grace, but the place wasquite empty.

  David and Jessica looked about them uneasily.

  "What chumps we were!" said the young man presently. "We never botheredto look after her, and now probably that old parent of hers has actuallygone 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 forher! 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?"

  "Ten to one Anne's father is acting in it," said David, "and that is thereason he happens to be in Oakdale to-day."

  "That's a very brilliant idea if it happens to be true," said Jessica."But don't you think we had better see Miss Mary Pierson before we doanything?"

  "No," exclaimed Grace decisively. She was in the habit of thinkingquickly and her friends usually let her have her way; but it wasgenerally the best way. "It would be a pity to alarm her unnecessarilyif we can avoid it. Anne isn't expected home until late, anyway. She isinvited as are all of you to eat supper at my house. Suppose we go rightto town, while David makes some inquiries at the Opera House. Then, ifAnne's father is really acting in town to-night, we shall know what todo."

  Accordingly, they tumbled into the road wagon, whipped up the horse anddrove back to Oakdale as fast as they could go. On the way in, they sawa new bill posted on a wall, advertising a play entitled "Forsaken." Itshowed, in vivid colors, a young girl very ragged and tired looking,asleep on the steps of a large church.

  "Let's go to the show," cried Nora, who always managed to combineamusement with duty; "that is," she added, "if Anne's father is in it.Of course, Anne will probably be somewhere about, in that case, and wecould spirit her away while he is acting."

  "That isn't a bad idea," answered David. "But I'd better fi
nd out a fewthings first. I'll come over to your house, Grace, and report," hecalled as he jumped out of the back of the cart.

  The girls waited impatiently for his return, feeling that every momentAnne might be speeding away in some outgoing train, and they were losingvaluable time. Grace had thought of consulting her mother, her best andwisest counsellor at all times, but Mr. and Mrs. Harlowe had gone on along drive to the home of Mrs. Harlowe's mother and would not returnuntil late that night. In half an hour their patience was rewarded; thegate clicked and David ran breathlessly up the walk, joining thempresently in the parlor.

  "It's true," he cried excitedly. "Anne is at the Spencer Arms, probablylocked up in a room. Her father is acting to-night in 'Forsaken,' andthe whole company leaves town on the 11.30 train. I suppose Anne must goto the theater, for there will be no time to go back to the hotel afterthe play. I got the whole thing out of the clerk."

  "Then we can all go to the theater," cried Nora triumphantly.

  "What good will that do Anne?" demanded practical Grace.

  "It may do her no good whatever," said David, "but it would be well notto lose sight of the father, even, if we must follow him to the train.And if Anne knows we are near, she will be able to get back her nerve."

  "Children," cried Grace suddenly, "I have a scheme. I won't put it intoaction unless it's absolutely necessary, but it's bound to work."

  "What is it?" demanded the others.

  "I won't tell," replied Grace mysteriously, "because I may not have touse it, and I'll warn you that it's rather dangerous. But it will saveAnne, and we just mustn't get caught."