Part 24 (2/2)

”Do you mean Woodrow Wilson?”

”Yes, Huedro Huilson, president--_de jure_--of the United States.”

”Oh,” I said. ”Now I understand. And when will there be a _de facto_ train?”

”At any moment you like,” said the little official with a bow.

”But I don't see--”

”Pardon me, I have one here behind the shed on that side track. Excuse me one moment and I will bring it.”

He disappeared and I presently saw him energetically pus.h.i.+ng out from behind the shed a little railroad lorry or hand truck.

”Now then,” he said as he shoved his little car on to the main track, ”this is the train. Seat yourself. I myself will take you.”

”And how much shall I pay? What is the fare to the interior?” I questioned.

The little man waved the idea aside with a polite gesture.

”The fare,” he said, ”let us not speak of it. Let us forget it How much money have you?”

”I have here,” I said, taking out a roll of bills, ”fifty dollars--”

”And that is _all_ you have?”

”Yes.”

”Then let _that_ be your fare! Why should I ask more?

Were I an American, I might; but in our Mexico, no. What you have we take; beyond that we ask nothing. Let us forget it. Good! And, now, would you prefer to travel first, second, or third cla.s.s?”

”First cla.s.s please,” I said.

”Very good. Let it be so.” Here the little man took from his pocket a red label marked FIRST CLa.s.s and tied it on the edge of the hand car. ”It is more comfortable,” he said. ”Now seat yourself, seize hold of these two handles in front of you. Move them back and forward, thus. Beyond that you need do nothing. The working of the car, other than the mere shoving of the handles, shall be my task.

Consider yourself, in fact, _senor_, as my guest.”

We took our places. I applied myself, as directed, to the handles and the little car moved forward across the plain.

”A glorious prospect,” I said, as I gazed at the broad panorama.

”_Magnifico!_ Is it not?” said my companion. ”Alas, my poor Mexico! She want nothing but water to make her the most fertile country of the globe! Water and soil, those only, and she would excel all others. Give her but water, soil, light, heat, capital and labour, and what could she not be! And what do we see? Distraction, revolution, destruction--pardon me, will you please stop the car a moment? I wish to tear up a little of the track behind us.”

I did as directed. My companion descended, and with a little bar that he took from beneath the car unloosed a few of the rails of the light track and laid them beside the road.

”It is our custom,” he explained, as he climbed on board again. ”We Mexicans, when we move to and fro, always tear up the track behind us. But what was I saying? Ah, yes--destruction, desolation, alas, our Mexico!”

He looked sadly up at the sky.

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