it was a veritable fortress that jack entered when he left the caboose of the supply train. before him, on a slight eminence, was the massive building of the power station with the searchlight mounted on the roof. the grassy slope below was marred by a double line of trenches unoccupied, of course, save for one or two white-clad sentinels who paced back and forth restlessly. on the lawn between the first trench and the station, the lad noted a bulky object covered with canvas. this he immediately decided was the three-inch fieldpiece about which mr. ryder had spoken. to the north of the station was the irregular outline of many small cottages. as the searchlight threw its rays in that direction, the boy observed that nearly all of them were constructed of wood and erected after the fashion[80] of the cottages furnished to the quarrymen in vermont. there were also several long low shed-like structures which he learned later housed the soldiers. the entire community did not occupy more than five or six acres and was entirely cut off from the surrounding country by barbed wire barricades. indeed, the place looked well-nigh impregnable to the american. to approach from the north, south or west, invaders would have to get through the mass of barbed wire first and carry two lines of trenches before they reached the station, and as far as the east side of the plant was concerned, approach in that direction was made impossible by the roaring mountain stream that furnished water to the station’s turbines.
the enclosure became a perfect bedlam a few moments after the supply train rolled in. to the roar of the river and the grumble of the huge generators inside were added the shouts of the soldiers detraining and unloading the supplies. the entire barracks had turned out to welcome the reinforcements, for it happened that they composed two companies of the same[81] regiment. altogether jack estimated that there were more than 200 men ready to defend the place against the rebels, not including the squad of twenty-five rurales who were stationed there to patrol the surrounding country. the rurales, the lad learned, were not soldiers in the stricter sense of the word. they are maintained by the mexican government to do practically the same work as that required of the famous canadian mounted police; which is to rid the country of bandits, smugglers and bad men, and run down the outlaws that hide in the mountains. they are far better drilled than any of the mexican troops and are well equipped with clothing and firearms. their horses are the best that mexican dollars can buy. these men ride exceptionally well, shoot almost as accurately as the texas ranger and are brave and fearless. a mexican president who believed in the old saying that “it takes a thief to catch a thief,” organized the rurales years ago when the country was infested with bandits and bad men. every time one of these men was apprehended he was forced to join the rurales and hunt down bandits. in this[82] way his vicious nature was well satisfied and at the same time he was able to consider himself a law-abiding citizen, which usually appeals to all individuals who have been outlaws for any length of time. to jack these soldier-policemen were very picturesque as they swaggered about in their dark-green, tightly fitting uniforms and broad-brimmed hats. he noticed, however, that they did not associate with the white-clad regulars, but stood apart in a little group by themselves and watched the other men unload the cars.
mr. ryder and jack lingered long enough to see that the unloading was well under way before they turned toward the station.
“i’ve a strange premonition that the troublemakers hereabout have taken advantage of my absence,” said the engineer as they approached the office. “i would not be surprised to find the plant dynamited some day. these rebel sympathizers will go the limit to make it disagreeable for old huerta.”
the office of ben nedham, first assistant engineer, was vacant. when mr. ryder saw this he looked worried. immediately he[83] bounded up the spiral iron staircase to the balcony-like control room where the switchboards were located. allen lyman, a tall light-haired american in charge of that section of the plant, advanced to meet him, and his face also bore a troubled look.
“they’ve been at it again, mr. ryder,” he exclaimed. “we haven’t been able to carry the load all evening. machines five and six are out of commission. couldn’t even start them. nedham and a gang are down there on the generator floor now trying to patch them up.”
“what is the trouble?” demanded the engineer, his brow wrinkled by a perplexed frown.
“well, some one got in after two o’clock this morning, evidently, and threw a bucket full of fire sand into the gears of both machines. nedham has had only one watchman here and he must have gone to sleep.”
“have you heard from mexico city yet?” demanded mr. ryder anxiously.
“no, not yet, but we can gamble that the lights are mighty dim there. shouldn’t wonder[84] but what we’ll get a call before the night is over.”
he had hardly completed the sentence when the telephone bell on the desk in the center of the room jangled sharply.
“dollars to doughnuts that’s mexico city now,” exclaimed lyman as he removed the receiver. a moment he talked with the man on the other end of the line; then he beckoned to mr. ryder.
“it’s president huerta himself,” he said, holding his hand over the transmitter. “he’s as mad as a mexican bull too. wants to speak with you.”
for fifteen minutes the chief engineer attempted to explain the situation to the country’s executive, and in the meantime jack busied himself trying to puzzle out the reason for all the switches, knobs, handles and indicators on the huge marble switchboard that extended all the way around the circular room. he knew that all the machinery in the station was controlled from that board, but just how it was done he had not the slightest idea. he decided, however, to take advantage of the first[85] opportunity and learn the function of each of the mysterious looking black rubber handles.
mr. ryder left the ’phone apparently thoroughly angry. he paced the narrow room for some time before he uttered a word. finally, pausing before the desk again, he brought his fist down with a resounding blow.
“by jupiter,” he thundered, “this must stop or i’ll know the reason why. the old man is as peeved as a wet hen and i don’t blame him. he informed me that we had made a failure out of the most important state function of the year simply because the palace was so poorly lighted. they had to resort to smoky oil lamps to help out. he was furious. told me the city looked like an indian village, it was so dark. oh, if i could only get my fingers on the villains who did this work!”
thus did he storm to jack and the operator until he became thoroughly out of breath and was forced to pause. then turning he called jack and started down the spiral stairs again. three flights they descended until they reached the floor of the generating room. six huge generating units occupied the space. they[86] were great black monsters of steel that looked like so many mastodons chained to the floor. water was roaring down from the forebay through four of the massive penstocks that supplied the turbines, but the other two were silent. around each of these silent machines was gathered a group of workmen. they had unbolted the steel protecting plates and were assiduously wiping the sand from the delicate armature bearings. some of these workmen were americans but there were a number of mexicans among them, many of whom were distinctly of the peon class, with bared feet and shabby garments.
as jack and the engineer hurried across the floor a short, dark-haired american advanced to meet them.
“we’ve trouble on our hands this time!” he exclaimed. “the two machines are full of sand and we won’t be able to get them cleaned until long after midnight.”
“well, how did it happen, nedham?” demanded mr. ryder. “you were in charge while i was away and you are responsible. are you going to let this plant go to the devil?[87] i got a good blowing up yesterday from the board of directors and here to-night president huerta himself had me on the long distance telephone. told me flatly that things would have to go smoother; and i propose to see that they do go smoother hereafter.”
“how do i know how it happened? maybe i was in charge, but they manage to work the same tricks when you are here too, so you can’t altogether blame me,” said nedham indignantly.
“well, i suppose not,” replied mr. ryder in calmer tones. “i didn’t mean to accuse you of neglect of duty. i know they work the same tricks on me too. i hope you’ll pardon my temper.”
the chief engineer extended his hand in cordial apology and nedham grasped it, his anger disappearing immediately.
