estly, "I hope you find him--all right--not--not
hurt. He was fine to me--I came near making an awful mistake--about a
native woman. But he came to me and talked me out of it--spent the
night with me, talking about his mother ... she died when he was a
little shaver ... and he talked about clean living, and the duty of
carrying on your white blood unpolluted. He didn't preach--just talked
sense, and was awfully--friendly. I quit the dame cold!"

Gripping Bronner's hand, Boynton left the room. Lindsey accompanied
the Major to the door and into the reading room, pointing to the
placard tacked up under the skin of the python.

"You remember the wording of the first sign? 'Major Bronner owes his
life to the wonderful pistol marksmanship of his friend, Lieut.
Richard Terry, P. C.' He was here the night that Malabanan broke
loose--you will hear about that night of his in the Club--and the next
day we found that he had changed the placard. Look."

He pulled the Major over and they read:

This python, the largest but one measured since American
occupation, was killed on the plantation of Mr. Eric
Lindsey.

Length...................24 ft., 9 inches
Diameter, thickest..............14 inches

"We didn't see him do it, but we knew he must have been the one who
changed it. As that's the way he wanted it, we can't change it--now."

Grief shadowed his earnest countenance again as he faced the Major:
"Don't you think that in view of my friendship for him--and for
you--that I am entitled to go up with you?"

"No, that's all settled, Lindsey."

The Major passed out, but pausing on the dark walk in front of the
building to relight his cigar, he heard Lindsey outlining plans for
the campaign the planters would undertake if the Major had not
returned at the end of two weeks.

* * * * *

In the early morning he made a light pack of rations and the beads,
matches and red calico he had secured to use as presents in case he
won through to the Hill People. He dressed for the field in khaki,
filled an extra canteen and after breakfast mounted Terry's big gray
pony and rode off with Mercado, whom he took to guide him to the spot
where Terry was last seen. The Macabebe took the lead and pressed by
the urgent white man lathered his pony in the rapid pace he set
through the winding trail. They dismounted at the ford shortly before
sunset.

While the Major was transferring