"How could I have made--who are you anyhow ?" The restrained laughter rippled forth, as though the expression of my face appealed to her sense of humor.

Evidently the lady was no longer afraid of me, nor greatly distressed over the situation.
"Isn't it too funny," she exclaimed cheerfully, "and won't Billie laugh about this when I tell him!" "Maybe he will," I acknowledged rather regretfully, "but it doesn't make me laugh." Then a vague suspicion gripped me.

"Why did you think I took you for Billie ?" "Why, that was what you called me, wasn't it?
The officer who escorted me past the pickets said Billie Hardy was going to try to run the lines to-night.

So it was easy enough to guess who you were after, Mr.
Yankee.

It was lucky for Billie you got me instead--or for you," she added doubtfully.
"Oh, I guess I would have pulled through." "Maybe," the tone decidedly provoking, "but I reckon you don't know Billie." She began to gather up her hair, coiling the strands about her head carelessly, and I watched the simple operation, all the life gone out of me, unable to decide what to do.