Just before we turned in Lieutenant Fortich asked me at what time I would like to start in the morning. I said "five o'clock." He replied, "Very well." While his remarks were gratifyingly in accord with the biblical injunction to "let your conversation be yea, yea; nay, nay," I feared that he did not fully comprehend the difficulties involved in an early start, so decided to take a hand myself when the time came. I accordingly arose at three-thirty A.M., and nearly fainted when I found that the horses were already munching their grain and, wonder of wonders, that the carriers were eating their breakfast. The usual thing is to be informed, when you are about an hour on your way, that the carriers have had no breakfast, and to be forced to sit down and wait while they cook and eat their morning meal. I went back to bed, convinced that I had discovered a new kind of Filipino constabulary officer. I got up again at four o'clock, dressed, and went to the table at four-thirty, finding a piping hot meal ready. When at five o'clock I descended the stairs of the house where I had spent the night, my horse was saddled and waiting at the gate. All I had to do was to climb aboard. Meanwhile I had not heard an order given, or a word spoken in a tone above that of ordinary conversation. Throughout the trip Lieutenant Fortich continued to display quiet efficiency. I jotted his name down in my mental notebook as that of a man to be used later. He is to-day the lieutenant-governor of Bukidnon, and a most faithful, competent and efficient public officer.