ry's habits long enough to again try to press a Scotch
upon him.

"Sears, that aspirin fixed me up. I wish you would give me a couple
more of those tablets."

Further search proved fruitless, he had no more. He turned to Terry
with a sorrow out of all proportion to the situation.

"Lieutenant, I haven't got any more. But here's some quinine--take a
few grains every few hours--it may help you."

Terry thrust the vial of capsules into his shirt pocket and after
thanking Sears hastened outside to where his men were tightening
girths under the watchful Sergeant's eye. Sears hovered over Terry,
offering advice, expostulating, as Terry mounted and gathered rein.

"Lieutenant," he said, "you know the ford is just above the pool they
call the 'Crocodile Hole.' Cross the ford, come back along the bank,
and you'll find a trail leadin' to the three shacks in the woods."

"I know, Sears. Thanks. Good-by."

"_Adios_," Sears called. Then he stood watching the little band trot
through the gate and into the woods. His eyes moistened, he raised his
big fist against an invisible foe.

"If they get him--" he muttered through lips that trembled unashamed,
"if they get that boy--that sick boy, I'll--I'll--we'll ... and I
didn't have any medicine for him--the only thing he ever asked me
for--or ever asked anybody for!"

* * * * *

For the first time Terry urged the gray. Matak over two hours ahead of
him and mounted on the next best pony in the Gulf ... Malabanan hours
ahead of Matak, riding toward the Ledesma girl held for him in one of
the three shacks.... He pushed the pony hard across the open
clearings, recklessly forced him through the underbrush that in
frequent areas obliterated the trail. They were now well inland and
mounting a perceptible grade toward the foothills: the sluggish stream
they had paralleled all day ran swift here. Once, where the trail
twisted near the bank, they heard the rush of rapids, and a mile
farther on they came in sight of a curiously soundless waterfull. They
had reached the Bogobo country but the afternoon quiet was unbroken by
the sound of agongs. Fear had reached the foothills.

His pony was too much for the courageous but smaller mounts of the
Macabebes and Terry gradually drew ahead. He must overtake Malabanan
before nightfall.... Ledesma had not put his confidence into words,
but he had looked it--had trusted him ... the pony's head and neck
dripped, a wel