their jungled hills."

He shrugged his broad shoulders in eloquent dismissal of a vain hope,
and rose: "I want you to meet the Governor. I'll see if we can get to
him yet."

He strode out of the office, returning immediately to inform Terry
that the Governor was closeted with the two Moro datos whom he had
fetched to the capitol by launch.

"They haven't promised to be good boys yet," he chuckled, "but they
will before he finishes with them! His Secretary says that he expects
you and me to go down to San Ramon with him to-night at seven sharp,
to dine with Wade, the prison superintendent. You're in luck,
Lieutenant. It will be an evening you won't soon forget."

So it proved to be.

CHAPTER IV

THE FANATIC

Terry, refreshed by a shower and change to formal white uniform, was
listening to the Major's grave summing up of the Moro problem when the
arrival of the governor's car took them both down to join him. As
Governor Mason alighted to meet him Terry felt the magnetism of the
man who had been selected to attempt the difficult Moro venture.
Governor Mason had grown up in the island service, had been identified
with the inner government circle since the days of the First
Commission, and had been retained and promoted by each succeeding
administration. Far-sighted, patient, wary, suave, he was the most
consummate master of Island policy developed under the American
regime. A press bitterly hostile to the idea of giving the Moros civil
government had attested to his proven capacity by moderating its
criticism following the announcement that he would head the new
government.

Terry was welcomed with a graceful simplicity that made him feel at
home. Immediately he fell under the spell of this man whose spirit
enthused the small band of whites who were redeeming a people from
their prehistoric lethargy. He was fit to lead; the sweep of line from
temple through jaw bespoke an uncompromising force of character, but
was gentled by the deep cleft of chin: something in the poise of head
gave him the manner best described as aristocratic but it was toned
down by the mischievous gleam which flickered, often without obvious
reason, in the thoughtful eyes.

The big car bore them swiftly through the cooling evening over smooth
coral roads which were laid down like ribbons on the green tableland
over which they sped: they shot under groves of tall cocoanut trees,
past clumps of feathery bamboo which flanked the high