As the sun sank below the trees, the Major stirred out of his melancholy and twisting over on the hard cot sought the reason for Terry's long silence. Terry sat, as always, at the top of the crude steps, gazing over the trees. The Major was shocked at the utter dejection of the slumped figure, the pain that showed in the set muscles of the thin face. The Major sat up. "What is the matter, Terry? You aren't sick?" "No, Major. I'm all right." His tone was weary. "What is the matter! Is this suspense--" Terry shook his head. "No, Major. It's something else--something home. I expected--I hoped for some news before I came up--news I did not receive." A flash of memory, and the Major asked: "A cable?" At the bare nod of head he jumped upright and reaching into his hip pocket brought out his purse to extract the cablegram he had brought up but forgotten. Crossing the little room, he dropped it on Terry's knees. Terry ripped open the envelope, hesitated, then unfolded the message. And as the Major looked on, every vestige of care and patient suffering left the white face, the wistful line was ironed from the corner of his mouth and Terry stood up a joyous, vibrant youth. He had read: Lieut. Richard Terry, P.C. Davao, Mindanao, P. I. At last the perfect Christmas gift. Am sailing immediately to claim it. Arriving Zamboanga January twenty-sixth with Susan and Ellis. DEANE. He carefully refolded the sheet and placed it in his shirt pocket, then turned to the Major, his eyes darkened with such a joy as the Major had never seen. "This message will cost you a wedding present, Major!" "What now?" asked the Major. Things were moving too fast since he reached the Hills. "It is from ... a girl. I left home--oh, foolishly. But she is on her way over here, with my sister and brother-in-law. That's where the present comes in!" "But--but--what about Ahma?" "Ahma?" Terry asked, in his turn astounded. In Terry's bewilderment the Major understood that his own unhappiness had been unfounded. At his shout of delight the Hillmen all turned toward the white men's hut, wondering at the joyous antics of the strange pair. In a few minutes the Major had calmed sufficiently to discuss their affairs. "But, Major," Terry asked him, "why did you think that we--Ahma and I--that we--you know?" "Why, everything. I saw you leave her early this morning over there in the woods. Then, this afternoon--the way you sat together, and--and everything!" "Last night--why, she helped me fix up that 'sign' I told you about: and to-day we were talking about you--she has asked me a million questions about you--and about white girls. She has a jealous streak in her--as you will learn!" More explanations, and Terry suddenly reverted to their plight.