Mercado looked up quickly, pleased with this mark of confidence from his uncommunicative chief. He was positive.
"Yes, sir. Malabanan."
"Of course—it could be no other. But—what would you do if you were in my place—we have no legal proof."
"I would take a platoon of our best men, sir, and visit his hacienda—and then there would be no Malabanan, sir—unless dead men live!"
"But the courts, Sergeant: we could not convict him on the evidence we have. And what you suggest would be mere murder."
"Courts, sir? Malabanan will never face a court—I know that, sir. I FEEL that, sir!"
Terry studied the hard face of the little fighting man: "Sergeant, you don't seem to fear man or devil."
Mercado's white teeth flashed as he shrugged pleased denial of claim to such courage, then his roving gaze focussed upon a distant object and the confident expression altered swiftly to uneasiness, awe, superstitious terror. Terry, startled at the transformation, followed the direction of his dread stare and saw that his eyes were fixed upon the distant, mist-wreathed crest of Apo. He understood. Even this sturdy little soldier cowered before the obscure menace of the hidden Hill People. Terry resented, vaguely, that others did not respond to the spell of the Hills as he did.
The five minutes had freshened the wonderful little steeds, so they mounted and pushed on through the heat with eyes half shut against the glare of sand and water. At four o'clock they pulled up in front of Terry's quarters.
A note from the secreto lay on his table. He opened it and read that Malabanan had not returned, that the place was deserted. He had anticipated this, knowing that the band would now operate from some secret rendezvous in the maze of the forests. His problem now was to locate their meeting place: his patrols must search them out. Information would be passed quickly to them by the inhabitants of the gulf—every planter, laborer, trader and native now knew that the ladrones were rampant: and now the Bogobos would be most valuable to him, as in their wanderings they covered every inch of the woods to the edge of the Hill Country, and news of strangers would be brought to him by swift Bogobo runners.