If I were ever going to see the revolution, it was time to make my exit. I ducked out quietly, strolled downstairs and around the corner, and reached the avenue just in time to hear the excitement. A volley of musketry sounded from the barracks a few blocks away. Policemen were blowing their whistles, and running up and down. I chased after one.
“Where is it?” I demanded.
He was too busy blowing his whistle to answer me. More policemen joined us, and we ran toward the plaza, colliding with another patrol running from the opposite direction. Here or there a scattering shot resounded, but one could not judge its source. We raced around corners, up and down the street, asking other parties where the trouble was to be found, but no one knew. At length the shooting subsided, and I went home to bed.
The next morning I made inquiries.
“There was no revolution, señor! Only a couple of drunken Americanos blowing up paper bags and smashing bottles!”
XIV
Tegucigalpa was quiet again.
The American Minister drove past my hotel in a big automobile filled with American naval officers in gold braid and cocked hats. The warship Rochester, flag-ship of the Panama squadron, was now anchored off Amapala. Admiral Dayton had come up to the Capital with his staff on what was described officially as “nothing more than a courtesy visit.” But it was reported that American gunboats were now lying off the east coast ports, ready to protect American property at the banana plantations. And it was humorously said in Tegucigalpa that the Admiral was about to reconvene Congress and preside over it himself.
THE WARSHIP ROCHESTER HAD ANCHORED AT AMAPALA ON WHAT WAS DESCRIBED AS A COURTESY VISIT