Dressed, Terry ate and listened while the Major smoked and talked.
"Lieutenant," he finally remarked, "there is no more trouble among the Bogobos?"
"No, sir. It has stopped—as I reported to you."
The Major regarded him closely: "What stopped it?"
"I just talked to some of the planters, and they understood."
Looking up, he flushed under the Major's quizzical gaze.
"Major, those planters at the club have been stuffing you!" he complained.
The Major gravely discussed Malabanan. "Terry, you may not have to move against him—I hope not, anyway. But I want you to be in a position to finish anything he starts. Do you want me to send you an additional company?"
"No—I can handle anything in reason with the Macabebes."
"What did you do with the secret service man I sent down?"