-"

"Huh!" the Major interrupted. "Guess he stretched things some. Fine
boy. Wants to come over when he graduates this June, but his mother
says one son over here is enough. And she's right."

Terry liked the big irregular features. In the steady eyes he saw
something that forced instant credence to the stories told of the
Major's resourceful bravery under difficult situations, a bravery
which had made the name of Bronner famous in a service made up of
intrepid men.

"Welcome to Moroland," the Major continued. "I hope you like it down
here--I think you will. If I didn't I wouldn't have requested your
transfer. You are assigned to the most interesting of the Moro
provinces,--Davao. You go there to command a Macabebe company. Your
baggage still aboard?"

"Yes, sir."

"Forget the 'sir'! Leave your stuff on board--the _Francesca_ sails at
daylight to-morrow, and you go on to Davao with her. Had breakfast? I
thought not. Pack a bag with what you will need for a day ashore--put
on a white uniform for to-night. My orderly will take you to my
quarters where you can get a shower and some breakfast. Join me at the
Service Club for lunch."

Throughout the abrupt discourse Terry had endured the frank appraisal
of the shrewd black eyes. He experienced a pleasant reaction when the
Major again extended his broad hand.

"Lieutenant, I said a minute ago that I was glad to know you. Let me
repeat it--I mean it. Adios, till lunch time."

He pushed his way good-naturedly through the throng of Moros who were
handling the bales and boxes unloaded from the roach-ridden hull and
walked off the pier, disappearing into the government building. Terry
boarded the vessel, warmed by the friendliness of his new chief, and
by the time the orderly arrived had thrown a few things into his bag
and was ready to go ashore.

He followed the soldier down the main street, a dusty thoroughfare
lined with the usual assortment of structures which adorn Philippine
provincial towns: adobe, tile-roofed business houses honeycombed with
little box-like shops in which the Chinese merchants displayed their
wares: square wooden houses set high on stone understructures: scores
of bamboo shacks stilted on crooked timbers, unkempt, wry, powdered
with the dust risen since the last rains.

Though it was not yet nine o'clock, they sought the shaded side of the
street with the habit which becomes instinctive near the equator, and
welcomed the coolness of Bronner'