tstretched hand.
The crowd of natives, who had crowded about them, waited the alien
ritual curiously.

Ahma was clad in the white costume in which the Major had first seen
her. A scarlet hibiscus blossom, the Hillmen's nuptial flower, was
thrust in her black hair, but there was no other addition to her scant
covering.

Possessed of a sudden spirit of banter Terry turned to the Major:
"Before I begin, Major, I wish to congratulate you upon having won to
the bliss of matrimony without violating that bachelor formula which
you so often boasted."

"What formula?"

Terry's voice deepened in mimicry: "'No petticoats for mine!'"

A moment he enjoyed the Major's embarrassment, then composed himself
to the business in hand, happy, confident.

But--the competent Terry fumbled. Swept away in the exuberance of
having found a way out for the Major, he had forgotten that, never
having exercised his legal privilege of joining in marriage in a
province where all of the natives were either Catholic or Mohammedan,
he was wanting in the phraseology the ceremony demanded.

Vainly he sought inspiration in a sky chill with the pale lights of
daybreak. He shuffled his feet nervously, scowled at the ring of
brown-skinned spectators, looked at his watch. As the sweat of worry
appeared upon his white forehead he drew his handkerchief and wiped
his face vigorously, then blew his nose resoundingly. This last device
seemed to serve.

He turned to the serene couple who waited patiently: "Do you, John
Bronner, take this woman, Ahma--Ahma of the Hills, to be your lawful
wedded wife, to love and cherish and to--er--provide for?"

"I do," said the Major. He was proud of Terry--trust the Constabulary
to see a thing through!

Terry was triumphant in his success. He unconsciously drew up his
slim, muscular figure as he turned to the bride, focussing his gaze
upon the blossom in the waves of jet locks that tumbled smoothly about
the downcast head.

"And do you, Ahma of the Hills, take this man, John Bronner, to be
your wedded lawful husband, to love and to--er--care for when
he--er--is sick?"

She caught the groom's whispered instructions and grasped the
wonderful import of the unknown words that Terry had spoken. Twice her
silent lips formed the two words of response in soundless practice,
then she looked up squarely into Terry's eyes and pronounced them.

"I do."

Either the clear voice was too rich with gladness, or else she should
n