Lieutenant,--but I see wild pigs
rooting up my immature plants, lack of labor, poor transportation,
fluctuations of price, typhoons undoing a whole year's work--take my
word for it, I see aplenty!"

Terry tightened the girth, tickling the knowing pony's nose till a
sneeze compelled contraction of the expanded chest. Mounted, he seemed
loath to go, and twisted in the saddle to look down at Lindsey.

"About what you said a moment back--that I was 'different.' All my
friends have always been like that--wanted to look after me, somehow,
though I can look after myself, pretty well. I never quite understood
why they felt like that ... about me. So, I know what you meant,
Lindsey. And I want you to know that--that I like it."

Lindsey gripped his outstretched hand, then stood at the fork watching
the slender rider thread through the maze of the trail out of sight.
Mounting, he started homeward along the edge of the field trying to
interpret the strange appeal this young officer had exerted over him,
this quiet lad whose very competence and cheerfulness he somehow found
pathetic. He involuntarily halted his pony as solution came to him.

"Why, curl my cowlick!" he exclaimed aloud. "That's it--he was BORN
lonely!"

* * * * *

Terry rode into Dalag at noon and found the doctor even redder and
hotter than usual. The perspiration glistened on his hands and wrists,
dripped from his fat face and neck, and his once-starched clothes hung
limp from his rolypoly frame. Worn with loss of sleep and fruitless
efforts to bring the frightened Bogobos to reason, he welcomed Terry
weariedly to the little hut that had been sat aside for his use.

Terry took command, so quietly that the doctor did not realize it. A
few brief questions elicited the measures the doctor wished put into
effect, simple curative methods and preventive precautions.
Understanding, Terry started out, but was recalled by the doctor.

"Lieutenant, did you bring your mosquito net?" At Terry's affirmative
nod he continued: "It's a good thing you did--the village is swarming
with nightflyers, and every one of them is loaded to the hilt with
plasmodiae!"

The village, a mere scattering of crudest huts along the river front,
seemed deserted, but from nearly every hut came the low wailings of
the sick and the frightened. Noting that the lamentations had ceased a
few minutes after Terry went out, the doctor stepped to the door and
watched