Terry drew a notebook from his shirt pocket. "Major, I have jotted down a list of things we are going to need for this work up here. I thought it would be better if I had a definite program to submit to the Governor, with estimate of appropriations necessary, and so on. First I listed those things you will need in order to build and furnish your house: cook stoves, lamps, dishes, window glass, and so on. I think I have included everything, so just run over those things you will need to begin this work." For an hour earnestly they discussed the problems the Major would confront pending Terry's return to take up the work. They listed a wide variety of needs--pigs, chickens, medicines, books, tools, seeds: contingent upon the Governor's approval, they outlined several months of planting, trail making, establishment of regular communication with the lowlands, selection of school teachers, of a health officer--all of the varied instruments needed for the initial work of elevating the tribesmen out of their barbarism. Dawn had dimmed their torches when they finished. For a while they sat silent, Terry happy in the outcome of this strange adventure in the Hills, the Major thrilling with the joy that had come to him. The Major broke the silence: "Terry, I AM a chump! All this time I've forgotten to tell you that a captain's commission is waiting your acceptance in Zamboanga!" He went on, slowly: "Are you sure that you can come back here for a year--after your honeymoon? Maybe she--your wife--won't wish to come." "Yes, she will." Terry was confident. "It will be for only one year, and then--" "And then what?" the Major demanded after a while. "Then--back home, among my own people. I left home foolishly, Major. I was restless--looking for a dragon to slay. But I have had a year in which to think--and I see things differently. During the time I was sick up here I--I ... well, I know now that a man need not cross the world to find service: he can be just as useful in preventing bunions as in--as in such lucky ventures as this." "Preventing bunions?" The Major was puzzled. But Terry did not answer. He had risen to finish his preparations for the journey down. "Just one more thing, Terry. You promised to tell me how you started that little avalanche--the 'sign.'" Something of the serenity faded from Terry's face as he turned to explain: "I had been up there several times, and had noticed a deep crevice that split the platform from the parent rock. It would have fallen within a few months. I carried up some softwood wedges, drove them into the fault, poured in a lot of water and expansion did the rest." The Major visualized the toil and peril of lugging heavy logs up the spiral trail at night. "Why didn't you let me help?" he demanded.