OFF FOR NECAXA
Jack was not long in discovering that Harry Ryder was a prince of
companions. After the little incident at the barracks they were fast
friends. Of course the engineer was somewhat older than the boy from
Drueryville, having just turned twenty-nine, but withal he was decidedly
boyish in spirit. The big gray motor car that stood in front of the
commander’s house was the engineer’s latest toy and nothing would do
but that Jack should accompany him on a tour of the capital of “this
benighted country,” as he termed Mexico. And he made an excellent guide.
Until long after midday they went flying up one street and down another,
while Mr. Ryder pointed out all the places of interest. First they
visited the Plaza Mayor, or Zocalo, as it is frequently called. And
while Jack was noting each interesting detail about the imposing public
buildings, the Cathedral and the National Palace, the engineer explained
the history of that remarkable section of the City of Mexico.
“This,” he said, “was the heart of the Aztec capital four hundred or more
years ago. Indeed, that building over there, the National Palace, was
constructed on the very site of the splendid palace of the old Indian
ruler Montezuma. And as for the Cathedral, that is built on the very
foundation stones that held the wonderful Tecalli, the Aztec temple,
where from twenty to fifty thousand lives were sacrificed annually to the
powerful Indian deity Huitzilopotchli. The present Cathedral with its
towering spires was erected in 1573 and is the most imposing edifice of
its kind in the whole of North and South America.”
From the Plaza Mayor they turned to other interesting portions of the
community. The famous tree under which Cortez is said to have wept was
pointed out by Mr. Ryder; also the various monuments and buildings
associated with the old Spanish adventurer. They traversed the causeway
over which Cortez retreated and ultimately visited Chapultepec where the
Indian rulers once maintained magnificent dwellings.
It was nearly one o’clock when the car rolled into the heart of the city
again and stopped before the door of the American Hotel. There Jack and
the engineer climbed out, but before Mr. Ryder entered the hotel he
inspected his new machine thoroughly.
“That’s a great plaything,” he said enthusiastically. “I bought it a
month ago, and I usually arrange to get into the city every Sunday to
take a drive. You see I have to leave it here because there is no roadway
out to Necaxa, only a pack train trail and our narrow-gage railroad.
I couldn’t very well use it out at the power plant anyway for it’s a
trackless wilderness there.”
On entering the hostelry the two Americans lost no time in finding the
dining-room, for the drive had given them both a ravenous appetite. They
ate in silence for a time, for the business of satisfying their hunger
was of great importance. But when coffee was finally served and each
felt that they had done credit to the ample portions afforded to them,
Mr. Ryder began to talk.
“You know, Jack, I think it was mighty lucky for you that I happened
to be in Mexico City. Otherwise you would probably have been compelled
to spend several days in jail. And it is even possible that they would
not have taken the trouble to send to Necaxa for me. A Mexican’s idea
of justice is rather crude. Frequently they shoot a suspect and then
debate his guilt or innocence over his body. Old Rodriguez and his Secret
Service friend were quite positive that you were a spy, and I am afraid
that the cartridges with which you were to be executed had already been
dealt out, figuratively speaking.”
Jack shuddered as he thought of his narrow escape.
“I guess that I _was_ very fortunate having you so near at hand,” he said.
“Well, I’ll be quite honest with you, Jack, this visit to Mexico City
was not a matter of choice with me. I was requested to appear before the
officials of the company and old Huerta himself. You see things have
been in a devil of a mess at the plant recently and we have had some
trouble in keeping the old city supplied with enough light. I fancy it
has been getting on Huerta’s nerves and he has been calling the company’s
officials to account. They in turn pass the calls along to me.
“You see some of the hundred or more workmen at the plant have developed
revolutionary ideas. They seem to be Zapata sympathizers and they are
doing all they can to make things unpleasant for Huerta. They have been
crippling machinery from time to time, tampering with the searchlights,
putting dirt in the bearings of the generators and raising the dickens in
general. Of course this reflects on my management and I feel rather ugly
about it all. But the men who do it keep pretty well under cover. I wish
that I could find out just which of the greasers are the trouble makers.
I’d have them line up against the station wall and drilled through with
some of their own soft-nosed bullets. That may sound a little inhuman,
but honestly one cannot afford to treat them otherwise. As a matter of
fact their fate is not in my hands. The moment we discover a sympathizer
the rurales stationed at the plant as special guards take the matter in
their own hands and all that we hear of the case after that is the report
of the carbines. Oh, they make very little bones about human life down
here. And that reminds me, have you provided yourself with a protector in
the form of a revolver? If you haven’t we’ll see that you are supplied
with one before we start back for the plant this afternoon.”
“I have my father’s big blue steel Colt,” said Jack with pride. “It’s
right here in my traveling bag. But I haven’t much ammunition, only the
cartridges in the belt.”
“Well, you’d better buckle it on your hip when we start. You will
probably find a great deal of comfort in having it handy all the time
you remain in Mexico. Why, you should see our plant. It’s a veritable
fortress with its rows of trenches, its barbed-wire barriers, its
squadron of rurales and detachment of infantry. And our working force
is drilled to do some fine defense work too. We are all equipped with
Mauser rifles and we have a battery of new French rapid-fire guns and
a three-inch fieldpiece that can throw a shell clean over the top of
the nearest mountain. We know it will do that for not long ago we had
occasion to bombard a handful of Zapatistas from a position on the cliffs
a mile away. The rats had an old fieldpiece and they managed to get a
couple of solid shot down through the roof of a storehouse near the
plant. Oh, we have had an interesting time out there for the last eight
or ten months. The Zapatistas have been hovering around like a swarm
of bees. They haven’t managed to do much damage, however, but we never
know when they will be joined by other mobs of guerrilla soldiers who
are operating in that section of the mountains. When that happens then I
guess we can look for real trouble.
“I arranged with General Rodriguez last night to have another detachment
of infantry accompany us to the plant this afternoon. I think it would be
wise to strengthen the guard out there at any rate. We are going out on a
train of flat cars that will be ready to move shortly so I guess we had
better be getting ready. I’ll drive you over to a gunsmith’s and you can
get all the ammunition you want, then we’ll start for the railroad.”
At the gunshop Jack laid in five hundred rounds of ammunition. This
seemed a ridiculously large amount but Mr. Ryder assured him that it
was wise to be on the safe side in such matters. Several other stores
were visited where Jack purchased some clothing suggested by Mr. Ryder
for service at the plant. The most important purchase was one of the
huge sombreros such as the natives wear. This was secured at a little
hat booth on one of the side streets. Jack was amazed at the size
of some of these hats and while he was looking over the assortment
offered, Mr. Ryder explained that the natives were very vain about
their hats. He said that in former days the wealthy Mexicans vied with
each other to see who could wear the hat with the largest brim and the
most costly embellishments. This competition reached the point where it
finally became a public nuisance, for the big hat brims were decidedly
objectionable on crowded thoroughfares or street cars. The federal
government finally took the matter in hand and imposed a tax of a certain
amount for every four inches of brim over a stipulated size. This
ordinance put the hat brims at a universal width.
After the shopping they hurried back to the hotel where Mr. Ryder always
maintained a room. Their clothes were changed and garments of the
rough-and-ready sort adopted. Jack felt very self-conscious as he buckled
on the heavy revolver and donned the high-crowned sombrero, but he did
his best to hide it from his companion. On his way out of the hotel,
however, he surreptitiously glanced at his reflection in one of the large
mirrors and found to his great satisfaction that such toggery was not at
all unbecoming. He secretly resolved to have some photographs made which
he intended to take back to Drueryville when he returned.
The train that was to carry them out to Necaxa was, as the engineer had
said, nothing more than a string of flat cars with a yellow caboose at
the end. It was a narrow gage railroad that was built especially to carry
supplies to the power station, one hundred and twenty-five miles back in
the mountains.
Two of the flat cars were heaped high with boxes of provisions and
barrels of flour, all on the way to the little community at the power
house. Three other cars were occupied by the detachment of infantry from
the barracks. The soldiers were not a prepossessing lot, Jack thought, as
he viewed them. They were uniformed alike, of course, and for the most
the uniforms were in rather good order though somewhat dirty. Their hats
were not unlike the forage caps of the United States troops during the
Civil War, with the exception that they were higher in the crown. The
men were all dark skinned and ugly looking, and the young American was
quite certain that as enemies they would probably be decidedly vicious
customers.
Three officers accompanied the detachment but they held themselves
aloof from the rest of the soldiers, sharing the caboose with Jack and
Mr. Ryder. They were tall, fine-looking specimens of Mexican manhood,
very jaunty in their gold-braided uniforms, and Jack found them very
companionable after they became acquainted, for they could speak English
after a fashion and some of the war stories they told helped to make the
slow journey into the mountains less tedious.
On leaving Mexico City the train started to climb immediately for the
way was entirely up grade, the plant being situated at a higher altitude
than the capital. As a result of this and the unusually heavy load, the
little engine made slow progress. Indeed, at some points in spite of its
snorting and puffing it could not go on and the men were forced to get
down from the flat cars and walk, thereby lessening the load. Because
of this slow progress it was long after nightfall when Jack discovered
a long pencil of light reaching out across the sky. It looked weird and
uncanny off there in the solitude of the mountains. But as he watched it
began to move along the ridges, searching out each valley and depression.
Then Jack understood. It was the huge searchlight at the plant, looking
among the hills for lurking bands of Zapatistas.
The lad watched the light travel from point to point until finally it
located the supply train, which it escorted all the way to the station,
illuminating the tracks just ahead of the engine.