ermination, a grimness: "Major Bronner has told you how
I want this matter handled?"

"Yes, sir. Wait, let him make the first move, then move against
them."

"Exactly! I want to demonstrate for all time that this province is as
unhealthy now for criminals as during Army days!"

For a moment he studied Terry keenly, then his gaze traveled over the
splendid vista of the Gulf appreciatively, mounting higher and higher
till it rested on Apo's dim crest. A moment and he turned to Terry
again, to find that he, too, was lost in a rapt contemplation of the
Hills.

"Lieutenant, some day ... somehow...."

"Yes, Governor."

The Major fidgeted uncomfortably in the presence of the two dreamers.
Two short blasts of the cutter's whistle restored the Governor's urban
manner. In a minute he and the Major had said their good-bys and were
bobbing over the little seas toward the ship.

The group of Americans and natives split up as they returned toward
the town but Terry lingered at the dock watching the cutter as it got
under way and raced toward the horizon, leaving a white ribbon of wake
on the blue gulf waters. Three large bancas were approaching the
shore, belated fishermen returning with the night's catch: a fleet
vinta, bearing Moro traders, bore toward Samal, its little sail
glaring white in the actinic sunlight: the morning air was hot and
filled with the heavy odors of sea and shore. It was a fair spot,
Davao, productive, peaceful.... He looked up the coast toward the
north where Malababan had settled with his unsavory crew.

* * * * *

He spent the day at the _cuartel_, correcting all the little defects
the Major's stiff inspection had uncovered. The Macabebes responded
eagerly--they, too, wanted to be perfect. They felt trouble in the
air, scented impending combat, and Macabebes thrive on combat.
Sergeant Mercado, veteran of seven campaigns in Samar and Cavite,
drilled them tirelessly, his eyes afire with the old fighting glint.
And that night he donned his starchiest uniform, pinned on his bright
service medals, and made the round of the tiendas, throwing chests at
the black-haired girls behind the counters. Great fighting blood is
usually great loving blood.

* * * * *

Terry ate dinner alone. The house seemed too big without the Major.
Restless, reading failed of its usual absorption. After a while he
took up a letter the last mail had brought from