which they lay. The lieutenant with two sergeants went forward to determine how well his troops were concealed. "Not there," we heard him call. "Number four from the right, shift your gun to the other side of that tree. Never fire around the left side of an obstacle. Fire from the right side, so that your body will be protected." Then, satisfied with the result of his inspection, he went back to his troops. A half-hour passed, and then through the distant trees we saw a soldier, his rifle at trail, advancing slowly and cautiously. Then two others appeared, forming as they came a triangle, its base towards us and its apex towards the distant edge of the woods. Closer and closer they came, until the lieutenant, drawing his Colt automatic, ordered them to surrender. The two soldiers in advance under the technical menace of twenty rifles came into the lines and laid down their guns. The third soldier retired as rapidly as the ground permitted, firing his piece as he retreated. The object of the reconnaissance had been achieved, at a cost of two men captured, for the position of the defense had been disclosed. Now a line of soldiers under command of our friend the Captain appeared and deployed as skirmishers at a distance of some four hundred yards. We watched them through our field-glasses as they advanced, each soldier taking advantage of whatever cover offered, alertly watching for the first sign of the enemy, whose position he already knew. The order to "halt" was given, then "Fire at will!" and along the line of soldiers broke out a rattling volley that drew a quick response from the squad of soldiers back of whose position we were placed. A second advance was ordered, and then, under a fusillade that would have left many gaps in their ranks, the company charged forward. As they broke through the last strip of trees the bugle sounded, "Cease firing!" and the battle was over. A brief rest followed, and then the united company, boots caked with mud from the swamp through which they had made their attack, formed in a column and marched off to the fort. As we moved off slowly towards the machine Mr. Jones remarked, "Well, the devil hasn't found many idle hands around this neck of woods-unless they are my own." We reached the fort just ahead of the soldiers, and went at once to the barracks of the company whose maneuvers we had been watching. Under the guidance of the second lieutenant whom we had watched defending his position in the woods, we went down into the mess-hall and kitchen to see the preparations for dinner, consisting of bread, onions, potatoes, beans, and coffee. The cook, an exsergeant, opened his oven and drew out a great steaming tray of beans. He dipped out a heaping plateful for Mr. Jones and myself even against that gentleman's protest of "I never could eat all those!" Before I had finished my share I found Mr. Jones being helped to a second plate. "We give our boys the best food soldiers get in any army," said the sergeant. "I know, for I served three years in Germany before I came over." "How did you happen to be selected as company cook?" asked Mr. Jones. "I asked for the detail, sir. You see, I have held every position open to a noncommissioned officer, and I wanted to learn how to cook before I left the army. I expect to do a lot of camping when I get out." "What about work around the barrackscarrying ashes and cutting grass and such things?" The lieutenant had moved out of hearing, and Mr. Jones was speaking to the ex-sergeant, with no chance that his reply would be overheard by his superior officer. "What do the soldiers think about that?" "Well, sir, that work has to be done here, just the same as outside the post. An army can't live that don't know how to feed itself and burn its refuse and keep itself clean. It's all in a day's work. Maybe there is more of it than some like, but we would have to do a great deal of that kind of work even if we were in camp in time of war." "I only asked for information," said Mr. Jones; I read something about it in a weekly paper." "Well, sir," said the ex-sergeant, "if you mean the paper I mean, the enlisted men on this post have had it stopped from coming to their Young Men's Christian Association rooms. That's what they think about those articles, sir!" As we left the kitchen we met the O. D. coming in. What's on the carpet next?" asked Mr. Jones. "The next thing on the carpet," said the Captain, with a smile, "is an inspection of feet." We followed the O. D. into the shower bath room and watched the company line up for inspection. Each man as he passed the Captain lifted his feet and turned them so that they might be seen from heel to toe. If a blister, a crack, or a rubbed spot showed, the man was listed for attention in the hospital. "If we didn't do this," said the Captain, it would mean that one-tenth of our troops would be incapacitated for service the second day out. An army with sore feet means an army that cannot move, and an army that cannot move is more ornamental than useful.” We left the barracks and went back to the Captain's home. Lunch followed, and after that we went down to the stone casemates in the old Civil War part of the fortifications and watched the non-commissioned officers at target practice with the new Colt automatic, which has recently been issued to replace the old .38-caliber revolver. ence in the Philippines showed the army that the .38-caliber revolver lacked the stopping power required for a weapon to be used chiefly in short-range fighting. Then Mr. Jones spent another hour watching gallerypractice in the basement of the post exchange. When we left, he looked regretfully at his watch. "Captain," he said, "I suppose the day is still young for you, but I've got to get back to New York this afternoon to catch the evening train for home. Besides that, I've got to send a telegram to Washington. I'll mail you a copy of it. You might be interested. I'm real sorry I can't stay any longer. Thank you, and good-by." On the ride to the station Mr. Jones was very silent, and I did not try to interrupt his thoughts. His lips, I noticed, kept moving as though he was preparing a stump speech. When we reached the telegraph office, he went at once to the desk and wrote with hardly a second's hesitation a message the wording of which evidently gave him considerable satisfaction. Then he handed it to me. This is what I read : Experi- House of Representatives, Washington, D. C. THE WHEATLAND HOP-FIELDS' RIOT BY GEORGE L. BELL ATTORNEY FOR THE COMMISSION OF IMMIGRATION AND HOUSING OF CALIFORNIA The following article is the result of several weeks' correspondence with various people in California which we have carried on in an endeavor to obtain a judicial statement of the facts connected with what we believe to be one of the most significant labor battles of the time. In sending the article Mr. Bell writes us as follows: 66 Inclosed is the article on the Wheatland hop-fields' riot, sent in accordance with our arrangement by letter and telegram. I feel that in order to do justice, not only to myself, but to all partics concerned, and to readers generally, all the factors, problems, and questions involved in the incident must be brought out at least briefly. Many prejudiced reports which failed to touch on the real issues have appeared in the press. The facts in connection with the conditions in the camp, the attitude of the pickers, and the report of the trial are of course absolutely essential. Moreover, these facts have merely a news interest or significance without an accompanying statement of the questions that have been, and are, live topics of popular discussion in California. By way of explanation I wish to say that I am the attorney for the Commission of Immigration and Housing of California, and as such was present at Marysville during most of the trial and have personally taken part in and superintended the collection of evidence as to sanitary and wage conditions. If you publish (Continued on page following illustrations) This young man was only twenty years old when he fell. He is a type of the men who are called to death in war for the service of their country. He was an able seaman of the battle-ship Florida, and was shot while raising the American flag over the Custom House at Vera Cruz. It will be recalled that taking down a Confederate flag preparatory to raising the Stars and Stripes EXAMINING RECRUITS FOR THE NAVY AT A RECRUITING STATION The hostilities in Mexico have caused large numbers of young men to apply for enlistment in the The Mexican National Railway from Vera Cruz to the City of Mexico runs through a mountainous country which is easy to defend. This bridge, at Infernilla Cañon, near Vera Cruz, is one of the strategical points. Its destruction by dynamite must be prevented if the United States forces advance along the line of this road IN THE FIGHTING TOP OF A BATTLE-SHIP These exposed positions are places of great danger during a battle, but from their height above the water they furnish a point of vantage which makes their use a matter of great importance |