“They do more than that,” put in an officer standing near. “They take their big umbrellas as well, and on many a battlefield the head officers have sat in the rear having tea served to them while the fighting was going on. You see, there are so many of the pig-tails that the slaughter of a few thousand of them now and then doesn’t disturb those in authority in the least.” “Sure, an’ that’s not encouragin’ fer us,” observed Dan Casey, who stood by, drinking in the conversation with much interest. “No; but I’ll tell you one thing, and that’s true,” said Captain Banner. “I have it from a number of officers who have served in China. The majority of the Chinamen rely on the signs they wear on their breasts to protect them from the ‘foreign devils.’ When they see their comrades shot down, regardless of these signs, nine out of ten throw down their guns and take to their heels.” “How many warships do you suppose are in these waters now?” said Gilbert. “Probably a hundred or more. I understand we have about fifteen, Russia the same number, and England almost twice as many, while Germany and France have a dozen or more, and Japan nearly half a hundred,” answered Major Morris. “And how many soldiers are there?” “There is no telling. We have probably four or five thousand, here and on the way; and England has twice as many. The majority of troops are, of course, Russian and Japanese, since they were close at hand when the trouble broke out,” concluded the major of the first battalion. CHAPTER XII A STORM AND A QUARREL “The mail is going ashore, lieutenant. So hand over your letters, if you have any.” It was the adjutant’s assistant, who was making the round of the transport, previous to his departure for the Nagasaki post-office. He already had one bag full of letters, and was now picking up a second. “All right. I’ll have a letter for you in a few minutes,” responded Gilbert. “I just want to make sure that I put everything in this that I wanted.” “Writing to your best girl, eh?” laughed the other officer. “Well, send her lots of kisses.” “I haven’t got that far yet, Peters,” responded the young lieutenant, with a laugh equally hearty. “This is a strictly business letter.” “Is that so? Seems to me we are pretty far away from home to do any business except that of fighting.” “That is true, and yet--” Gilbert broke off short. “Hullo! What in the world does this mean?” He had torn open the envelope addressed to Ralph Branders, and was now staring in amazement at the blank sheets of paper it had contained. “Blank sheets, eh? Well, you must have been asleep when you put them into the envelope,” was the comment of the adjutant’s assistant. “Or else somebody has been putting up a joke on you,” he added. Gilbert did not reply, for the reason that he was just then doing some rapid thinking. He remembered how he had been aroused by Nuggy Polk and how he had found the sealed envelope on the passageway floor.