We could not get close enough to ascertain what all the excitement was
about, because they would not let us. We were not allowed to venture
within fifty yards of the outer breastworks, or kneeworks; and even
then, so the village authorities warned us, we must keep moving. A woman
camera fiend from Coronado was along, and she unlimbered her favorite
instrument with the idea of taking a few snapshots of this martial
scene.

As she leveled the lens a yell went up from somewhere, and out of the
barrack and over the wall came skipping a little officer, leaving a
trail of inflammatory Spanish behind him in a way to remind you of the
fireman cleaning out the firebox of the Through Limited. He was not much
over five feet tall and his shabby little uniform needed the attention
of the dry cleanser, but he carried a sword and two pistols, and wore a
brass gorget at his throat, a pair of huge epaulets and a belt; and he
had gold braid and brass buttons spangled all over his sleeves and the
front of his coat, and a pair of jingling spurs were upon his heels.
There was a long feather in his cap, too--and altogether, for his size,
he was most impressive to behold. He charged right up to the abashed
camera lady and, through an interpreter, explained to her that it was
strictly against the rules to permit a citizen of a foreign power to
make any pictures of the fortifications whatsoever. He appeared to nurse
a horrid fear that the secret of the fortifications might become known
above the line, and that some day, armed with this information, the Boy
Scouts or a Young Ladies' High School might swoop down and capture the
whole works. He explained to the lady, that, much as he regretted it, if
she persisted in her suspicious and spylike conduct, he would have to
smash her camera for her. So she desisted.

The little officer and his merry men had ample reason for being a mite
nervous just then. Their country was in the midst of its spring
revolution. The Madero family had just been thinned out pretty
extensively, and it was not certain yet whether the Diaz faction or the
Huerta faction, or some other faction, would come out on top. Besides,
these gallant guardians of the frontier were a long way from
headquarters and in no position to figure out in advance which way the
national cat would jump next. All they knew was that she was jumping.

[Illustration: AS THE OCCUPANTS SPILLED SPRAWLINGLY THROUGH THE GAP, A
FRONT TIRE EXPLODED WITH A L