Truly, if he carried that determined front to his lady-love he would look like a masterful lover.

But when he got to the door he did not at all resemble a conqueror.
"You're sure she--cares for me ?" asked Dave, for the hundredth time.
This time, as always, his friend was faithful and convincing.
"I know she does.

Go--hurry.

I tell you I can't stand this any longer," cried George, pushing Dave out of the door.
"You won't go--first ?" whispered Dave, clinging to the door.
"I won't go at all.

I couldn't ask her--I don't want her--go! Get out!" Dave started reluctantly toward the adjoining cabin, from the open window of which came the song of the young woman who was responsible for all this trouble.