OH, SHOOT! 



and travelers, but it keeps the soldiers out in 

 the open air. Yonder, by the way, is an Amer- 

 ican who went through the last outrage. He 

 can tell you quite a story." 



The man indicated was not averse to 

 talking, but the longer he discoursed upon the 

 Yaqui subject, the more I realized that we 

 had erred in coming to Guaymas by rail 

 instead of by water. No matter how rough 

 the Pacific and how wet a three-room yacht 

 with kitchenette, neither could be as messy as 

 a massacre. 



"They killed about forty passengers that 

 day," my new acquaintance told me. "First 

 they robbed us; then they stripped us of our 

 clothes. They were taking me out to line me 

 up with some others to be shot, but I jumped 

 off the wrong side of the platform and made a 

 dash for the brush. There was a lot of con- 

 fusion and excitement, and I managed to 

 keep hid out until they had cleaned up the 

 train and ridden off. Then I climbed into 

 the mail car and got something to cover my 

 nakedness. I came into Empalme that night 

 wearing a pair of socks and two mail sacks 

 one for a shirt and the other for a pair of kilts. 

 Two Americans with me were killed one of 



228 



