“Hardly that, I imagine. But you know the missionaries and other foreigners are having a lot of trouble with the Boxers, as they are called; and I reckon our government wants some soldiers on hand in case matters get worse.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about the Boxers, although I don’t exactly know what they are.”
“They call themselves a band of Patriots, but in reality they are a secret society having for its object the extermination of all foreigners in the Celestial Kingdom. They are the worst cut-throats in China, so I have been told.”
“Well, this is certainly news,” mused Gilbert Pennington. “I had an idea that my fighting days were about over for the present. I never dreamed I should be sent away from the Philippines excepting it would be back to the States.”
“I hope the prospect doesn’t displease you,” went on Major Morris, earnestly. “For myself I am thoroughly delighted. I am getting tired of hanging around Tarlac. We haven’t had a brush with the Filipino guerillas for three weeks, and that last engagement didn’t amount to anything.”
“Major, you are a fighting man through and through!” laughed the young lieutenant. “I believe you would rather fight than eat.”
“Hardly that, Pennington; but I must confess to a weakness for an occasional engagement.” The major of the first battalion twisted his mustache meditatively. “Between you and me, privately speaking, I think we have a long, hard campaign before us.”
“I can’t understand it. If the Chinese government isn’t in with the Boxers, why doesn’t it suppress the society, and protect our citizens and the citizens of other nations?”
“That’s the conundrum, lieutenant. I was talking to the colonel about it; and he says his opinion is that the Chinese government, instead of suppressing the Boxers, is secretly aiding them. The Chinese don’t want any foreigners in China, and this outbreak was bound to come sooner or later.”
“If they don’t want any foreigners, why did they allow them in the country in the first place?”