“Mexican border!”
“But he is out of soldiering.”
“Both of us enlisting!” Tillie was absolutely silenced for a moment and Bill went on: “See here, Miss Wingo, Tillie! I’d be glad if you would—if—I’m stuck on you for sure.”
“Oh, come off! You know you think I’m the silliest ever.”
“I think you are about the prettiest, jolliest ever. I wish you would let me go off to Mexico engaged to you. It would make it lots easier to work and I mean to work like a whole regiment and make good. Won’t you, Tillie?”
“Well, I don’t care if I do. You are a fine dancer and I think a heap of you, Bill. I’d rather keep it dark, though, if you don’t mind, as it queers a girl’s game sometimes if she gets engaged.”
“Lord, no! I don’t mind just so I know it myself,” and the happy Bill enfolded his enamorata in his arms, although she carefully admonished him not to crush her new dress.
“I never dreamed you were thinking about me seriously,” she confessed as she emerged from his embrace.
“Honest? Been dotty about you ever since you took me for a jitney driver and tipped me a quarter. Got it yet.”
“Look how dark it is! I believe we are going to have a storm. What a great black cloud! Let’s hurry, as I have no idea of getting my frock wet.”