"It's hers if it is paid for," said Tom. "You don't suppose a girl that Billy would fall in love with would wear tresses that were stolen?"
"And to think she may be fat!" sighed Sam. "I hope she doesn't weigh over two hundred, Willy."
"Oh dear me!" cried the dude, in desperation. "I want you to remember"
"That she is yours and yours only," finished Tom. "Yes, nobody shall walk in your corn patch, Bill—not over my dead body. But tell us—secretly if you must—does she wear a number eight shoe or a twelve?"
"If you don't stop your fooling" gasped the dude.
"He is going to keep his dreadful secrets to himself," cried Tom, mournfully. "Alack! and too bad! But never mind, we'll all come to the wedding, Tubblets, and bring lemons if you say so?"
"Who said I was going to get married?"
"Is it to be a church affair or just a little private home gathering?" went on Tom, seriously. "If it's to be in a church, and you want us all for rushers—I mean ushers, why"
"We'll all be on the job," finished Dick. "Wouldn't miss the chance for a farm with a blind mule thrown in."
