Peter Gross frowned reflectively at the table-top.
"I would not need five hundred men, your excellency," he announced.
The governor's smile broadened. "You know more about jungle warfare than I gave you credit for, Mynheer Gross," he complimented. "But I should have known that the rescuer of Lieutenant de Koren was no novice. Only this morning I remarked to General Vanden Bosch that a capable commander and three hundred experienced bush-fighters are enough to drive the last pirate out of Bulungan and teach our Dyaks to cultivate their long-neglected plantations. What say you to three hundred of our best colonials, mynheer?"
"I will not need three hundred men, your excellency," Peter Gross declared.
Van Schouten leaned back in surprise.
"Well, Mynheer Gross, how large a force will you need?"
Peter Gross's long, ungainly form settled lower in his chair. His legs crossed and his chin sagged into the palm of his right hand. The fingers pulled gently at his cheeks. After a moment's contemplation he looked up to meet the governor's inquiring glance and remarked:
"Your excellency, I shall need about twenty-five men."
Van Schouten stared at him in astonishment.
"Twenty-five men, Mynheer Gross!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean?"