"Matak, when is the mail boat due?"

"She come this morning, go noontime."

And this was the twenty-fourth. Terry's keen disappointment was
apparent to the watchful Moro.

"Master, you want go to Zamboanga?" he said.

"Yes. I must go as soon as possible, Matak."

"Take little boat Major come in. She still here."

Terry jumped up from the dinner table and hurried to the dock and
found the speedboat tied up alongside. After a hurried conference with
Adams he raced back to the house, where the forehanded Matak was
already packing his bags. Terry added a steamer trunk which held his
civilian clothes, and as dusk fell master and man stepped aboard the
frail craft. Adams was ready. A sharp thrust of foot quickened the
engine into life, and they swung in a short circle. Straightening,
motors roaring, the stern sucked deep as they sped in swift flight
into the south.

From his seat in the stern Terry watched the light fade out of the
western sky. The stars invaded the deserted field and dimly outlined
the rim of the mountains, a smooth line save where Apo reared high in
the west. For a moment the dark peak seemed lonely to him, but he knew
that the Major was happy on the pine clad height.... After Ohto's
passing, his own responsibility, the guidance of a child-tribe, would
be a heavy one ... a year of that, perhaps, and then--but first ...
his heart throbbed in vivid realization of all that awaited him in
Zamboanga.

Adams hovered about his engines, happy in Terry's return and in this
opportunity to render him service. Matak stretched out on a cross
seat, unhappy in the deafening roar of the motors and the rhythmic
rise and fall of the speeding craft in the smooth landswells.

As they rounded Sarangani in the middle of the calm moonlit night
Adams left the cockpit long enough to cover Terry with a thick
blanket, for he had succumbed to the monotonous chorus of the motors
and the lull of the bewitching night at sea.

As the calm weather held, Adams steered straight for Zamboanga,
putting out to sea in the little motorboat. When Terry woke Basilan
was in sight, and at five o'clock they rushed down the tidal current
of the Straits and eased into the slip alongside the dock.

Adams, grimy, worn with his long vigil, grinned contentedly under
Terry's warm thanks. Leaving Matak to secure a bullcart to transport
his luggage to the Major's house Terry hurried down the dock and
entered the Government Building. The clerks