I met Mr. Robinson on the street one day, bleeding from a wound on his
face. He said that Mr. Wood, superintendent of our railway, had struck
him. Two of Mr. Wood's children were attending Miss Judson's school,
and on account of the official position of their father, behaved in an
ugly manner. Miss Judson made complaint to the school board, which
exasperated Mr. Wood and he demanded her resignation. This the board
would not permit. He called Mr. Robinson to his office and dismissed
him from the service of the company. Being requested by Mr. Robinson
to give his reasons for his dismissal, he struck him.
I was angry to think a young man would so brutally use a man of Mr.
Robinson's age, and, too, in a strange country. Before I could
restrain myself I demanded his reason for striking Mr. Robinson. Mr.
Wood replied in a haughty manner that he was not accustomed to account
for his acts. I replied: "Perhaps not, but when one of your position
and age so far forgets himself as to strike an old man, any respect
you may be entitled to is dispelled by your cowardly act."
For a moment it looked serious. He raised his hand as if to strike me.
I said: "Mr. Wood, if you attempt to go any farther I will certainly
be a far different antagonist than Mr. Robinson, and teach you that
some of your acts, at least, will be rewarded in a manner not to your
liking." He knew he had gone too far, and said in a quieter tone, that
he did not consider the affair any of my business.
"Mr. Robinson is an American; let his countrymen investigate this
matter. I will deal with them."
"Mr. Wood," I replied, "I hope the time will never come when a Briton
will so far forget his duty as not to go to the assistance of any
family, irrespective of nationality."
At this moment some other shop men came in, loud in their denunciation
of Mr. Wood. There is something that binds a Britisher and an American
when they are away from their respective countries, and among
strangers. On many occasions I have seen the Britisher and American
argue and even quarrel over the merits of their countries but when
serious trouble arose, all jealousies would be cast aside, and each
one would endeavor to outdo the other in kindness.
That night an indignation meeting was held in a large building
formerly used as a storeroom. The employes all knew the reason of Mr.
Wood's attack on Mr. Robinson. Although the majority of them were
working under Mr. Wood, they felt the indignity inflicted on Mr.
Robinson was an insult to them all, most of them having children
attending the school.
From the beginning of the school, Mr. Wood had tried to dominate it.
This was another reason for the employes' grievances and, chief of
all, they were now being paid in the depreciated currency of the
country. The meeting was conducted in a quiet business manner. The
sentiment was to strike until Mr. Wood was removed from office.
I told the men that that would be an injustice, as the general manager
was in Lima and we had no one to appeal to. Therefore we should
continue to work until we could communicate with him. This appeal had
the desired effect, as all could see the injury our strike would
inflict on the railway.
I was then selected as the representative of the employes to go to
Lima and lay the matter before the general manager. I was about to
start when I was handed a note from the superintendent, saying that my
services were no longer required. I replied that I would receive my
orders from his superior and proceeded on my journey.
At Lima I succeeded in reinstating Mr. Robinson, and shortly after my
return to Arequipa, Mrs. Robinson died. Grief at the injury inflicted
upon her husband and a feeling of friendlessness in a foreign land,
had hastened her end. Another indignation meeting was held and Mr.
Wood was dismissed from the service of the company. Mr. Robinson
became despondent and after a few months decided to leave the
country.
The war with Chile was still on. The Peruvian army suffered defeat
after defeat. Her navy had made some show of success at first, but not
after the terrible fight between the Huascar, and two Chile ironclads,
in which the Peruvians lost. The currency of the country became
practically worthless. My accumulation of years was almost swept
away.
Mr. Robinson decided to return to their home in San Louis Obispo,
California, and about this time I received an offer from the Peruvian
government to bring a torpedo boat from Panama to Mollendo. The
Robinson family were going north on the steamer which would carry me
to Panama. On leaving, our friends gave us a splendid banquet and
assembled at the station to bid us farewell. Poor Chico, I can see him
yet, waving his old red handkerchief with his right hand, his left
covering his eyes.
When the ship moved out of the port, I stood on the deck with Hattie.
Mr. Robinson and the aged mother stood near us looking upon the scene
amid a flood of tears. The memory of their dead they were leaving
behind, was no doubt uppermost in their minds.
I looked upon the mountains we were just leaving until they were a
mere speck. I intended to perform one last service for Peru, for,
however much I had suffered, it was my boyhood's home, the only home I
had had since leaving my native shores.
We were a week making the voyage from Mollendo to Panama. The weather
was fine and the sea was smooth. I was in company with Hattie much of
the time. In her gentle way, she sought to dissuade me from the
perilous undertaking with the torpedo boat. But when I reminded her of
my duty to Peru she said no more. I could see, however, she was
pained at the thought.
The north bound steamer had gone when we arrived at Panama and the
Robinsons would have to wait ten days, which compelled them to stay at
the hotel in that sultry city.
After visiting the Peruvian consul, who had been notified of my
mission by his government, I learned that a Chilean cruiser was
watching the torpedo boat and it was decided to await a dark night
when we could escape from Panama harbor. Meantime I stopped at the
same hotel with the Robinsons. I made several trips around the bay to
test the speed of the boat and was satisfied we could outrun the
cruiser, but somehow I began to dread the venture. The full force of
this feeling dawned on me when I realized I was in love with Hattie.
The day was drawing near for their departure, when Hattie and I were
seated on the veranda of the hotel, looking out over the Pacific. The
afternoon wore away, the sun began to set in the dense blue haze of
the tropic ocean, the great cathedral bells pealed out the hour of
eight, the night birds screeched from out the palms, and still we sat
in the glow of the twilight, talking of our past and future.
The streets became silent and even some stars had faded from the skies
and the ceaseless roar of the surf beating upon the sands was music,
when she promised to be my wife.
[Illustration: FLIGHT OF THE TORPEDO BOAT. (Page 158)]