But hold! For while I eulogize, There is another claims a prize And puts to shame all gone before; I mean this humble Yankee boar! What lowly hog did yet aspire To ribboned fame as race-track sire? Consult the annals of all time, Great deeds extolled in prose and rhyme, Delve deep in Clio's treasured store, Exhaust encyclopedic lore-- You will not find in one edition A hint of such high pig-ambition! Had he but lived in days gone by When Richard raised his voice on high And offered Kingdom for a Horse, To him he might have had recourse.... Imagine bristly Berkshire swine Upon the throne of Coeur de Lion!! But, while we give our meed of praise To those who would these isles upraise, Forget not him who planned all that-- For it was Casey at the bat! Forget not him whose Celtic head Outdid, when all is done or said, That classic stunt--the herculean Minerva sprung from Jovian bean! Where else but in the Philippines Amid these sunny tropic scenes That lull the senses into rest, Could come this genius of the West? For, not content with colt and swine, He must produce domestic kine-- To heap the brimming measure full He perpetrates an Irish Bull! Finished, he still stood on the chair, frankly happy in the uproarious response to his effort to amuse them. The clamor subsided in a sudden and almost incredulous appreciation of his swift composing: and in the momentary silence during which they gazed at the happy, laughing boy, a pair of heavy shod feet sounded on the bare stairway--loud, hurried. All eyes shifted from where Terry stood on the chair to the stern visaged Macabebe sergeant who had stopped in the open doorway. He hesitated a moment, then urgency overbore his instinct against violation of the white man's domain, and he stepped toward his chief. Terry met him in the center of the room. The Macabebe saluted, then reported in a savage grating voice that carried clear to every startled ear. "Sir, Patrol Number Seven reports that ladrones raided Ledesma's plantation at one o'clock last night: killed one servant, stole all of Ledesma's carabaos and money, and stole his daughter." Malabanan had dared! The ladrones had struck! CHAPTER X MALABANAN Terry's pace across the plaza taxed Mercado's shorter legs. He was surprised that Malabanan's move came almost as a relief after the weeks of anxious waiting. Scoffing the Constabulary, they had sought to test the strength of the new government ... "if they make a break--Smash 'em!" He whirled, taut, as they reached his quarters, and the battle-loving veteran thrilled with delight as he caught the hard ring of voice.