"Well, I don't know that we have to be there just on the minute," he answered, smiling down at her. "But I may be really tried for desertion some day. I can't stay away from you very long, Betty."
"I wouldn't get you into any trouble for the world," she said demurely.
"Will you write every day?" pleaded Allen, leaning close, and for the moment these two were absolutely alone. "Letters are the next best thing to having you with me, Betty. And if you stop writing, I give you fair warning I'll come straight home on the next train, furlough or no furlough, to see what the matter is; and if I get shot at sunrise, so much the better. Betty, will you promise me?" He said it pleadingly.
"I--I'll try to write every day," she answered, still not daring to look at him; "but you mustn't mind if some days it's only a little line. I'm going to be terribly busy."
"I expect to be busy, too," said Allen, drawing himself up a little; "but I'd manage to find time to write to you every day if I had to let other things go."
"Allen," she laid a hand on his arm and he covered it eagerly with his own, "I _will_ write to you every day and it will be a good long one, too."
"Not from a sense of duty?" he asked, still a little unbelieving, though his heart was throbbing painfully. "You won't write just because you'll think I'll be expecting it, Betty?"
"No," she said, her voice very low, so low that he had to bend close to catch the words. "I'll write to you, Allen--because I--can't help myself."
"Th-there's the engine whistle," she said unsteadily.
"Engine whistle be hanged!" cried Allen explosively. "Betty, I want you to look at me."
Then, as she still turned from him, he deliberately put a hand beneath her chin and turned her face to meet his.
"Betty, little Betty," he cried tenderly, seeing that her eyes were wet with tears, "do you care as much as that? Little girl----"
"D-don't be nice to me," she sobbed, feeling for her handkerchief. "I don't want to c-cry. I want to send you away with a s-smile----"
"Betty," he cried, crushing her to him for a minute, as the train thundered into the station, "I love you, I love you--do you hear that? Goodbye, little girl--little girl----"
The boys tore themselves away, not daring to look back until they reached the train. And the girls stood in a pathetically brave little group, waving to them and smiling through their tears.