f, too. He had suffered enough, and the
cocoa-nut was the limit! . . .

'Are ye for Glesca?' Willie persisted when Macgregor was giving
himself a 'tosh up' in the billet.

'Ay, am I!' he snapped at last.

'Hurray for the hero! Weel, gi'e Maggie yin on the squeaker frae
me, an' tell her no to greet for me, because I'm no worthy o' her
pure unselfish love, etceetera. I doobt the weather's gaun to be
ower fine for cabs the nicht, but dinna despair; it's gettin' dark
fairly early noo. Enjoy yersel' while ye're young.'

'That's enough,' said Macgregor. 'Ye needna think ye're the only
chap that kens a thing or twa!' And he left William gaping as
widely as his painful jaw would permit.

On the way to town he decided to leave the whole affair to chance;
that is to say, he would not arrive at the warehouse where the fat
girl was employed until _after_ the usual closing hour of six. If
she had gone, no matter; if she was still there, well, he couldn't
help it.

He arrived at 6.3, and she was there--in her fine feathers, too.
She could not have expected him, he knew, but evidently she had
hoped. He felt flattered and soothed, being unaware that she had
had another swain in reserve in case he should fail her.

'Fancy meetin' you!' she exclaimed, with a start of surprise.
'Where's the bad character?'

'Gumbile,' answered Macgregor, who would not for worlds have
betrayed his friend's lack of skill with the rifle.

'Lang may it bile!' she remarked unfeeling. 'Wha are ye chasm'
the nicht, Macgreegor?'

'You!' he replied more boldly than brightly.

'My! ye're gettin' quite forward-like,' she said, with that
pleasant giggle of hers.

'High time!' said he, recklessly.

After tea they went west and sat in the park. It was a lovely,
hazy evening.

'Wud ye rayther be in a pictur' hoose, Maggie?'

'What's a pictur' hoose to be compared wi' this? If Heaven's like
this, I'm prepared to dee.' With three rose-flavoured jujubes in
her mouth, she sighed and nestled against him.

In silence his arm went round her waist.

* * * * *

While waiting for the car back to camp he wrote on a picture
postcard--'Cocoanut received with thanks. I wish I was dead,'--and
dropped it into a pillar box.

About the same hour, in the billet, Willie was disposing of the
cocoa-nut by raffle, tickets one penny each.

'A queer-like present to get frae yer aunt,' said some one.

'Ay; but she's a queer-li