“Have we then had trouble in those places recently?” Tillotson inquired in mild surprise, and in a voice calculated to annoy his listeners.
“Not very lately,” Phil answered; “the South American trouble was over a year ago and in China about six months ago. They were only small rumpuses. I dare say you didn’t hear about them.” Phil’s pride was touched, for he knew that many papers had given full and even exaggerated accounts of both fights, and his name and Sydney’s had been glowingly mentioned.
“I suppose I must have been out in the field at the time,” Tillotson explained indifferently, “so I didn’t see the papers.”
“Hadn’t we best make up a plan of just how we’re going to do this thing?” Phil urged, returning to his point and being guided by his training at the Naval Academy, which had taught him to be methodical in all things.
Lieutenant Tillotson regarded the lad coldly. “You can plan for yourself,” he replied. “I’ve been fighting these insurgents for some months and my men know my plans by heart: they comprise just one word: ‘Forward.’”
After the lieutenant had gone to his cot and was sound asleep, the midshipmen adjourned to the brightly lighted chart house to discuss the situation.
“This rank business is what is hurting the army and navy too,” Phil exclaimed testily. “Just because a man has one more stripe on his sleeve he thinks he knows more than every one below him, and considers a suggestion from a subordinate unpardonable insubordination, almost akin to mutiny. Well, Mr. Tillotson can keep his own plan, but, Syd, I am going to work out our end of it.” While Phil spoke he drew the chart toward him and glanced carefully at the land in the neighborhood of Binalbagan.
“Do you see that marsh behind the town?” he exclaimed suddenly to Sydney whose eyes were upon the chart. “That’s probably mangrove, and they can’t get through that, so if they’re attacking, it’ll be from the side. If Tillotson lands his men to the northward and we take a position to the southward we ought to make a big haul. I told O’Neil to have the Colt gun ready and if it comes out as I hope it will, we’ll land it there,” pointing to a spot on the chart showing a low hill to the left of the town.
Sydney agreed heartily with Phil’s plans, and berated soundly the attitude of the army man.
“I suppose,” Phil said in apology for him as they parted, one to turn in, the other to keep watch until midnight, “that he’s had so much fighting he’s grown careless.”