To Jack it all seemed like a horrible nightmare. Here he was a prisoner in the capital of a strange country. He had no knowledge of the language spoken by those with whom he had to deal, nor did he have friends or relatives within several thousand miles. His only hope in being delivered from his rather serious position lay in the possibility of calling Harry Ryder to Mexico City so that he could identify his drawings and explain how they came to be in the possession of some other person. But Jack was not altogether certain that this could be done, or if it could be done, whether his captors would be willing to take that much trouble to prove him innocent. At first he had taken the arrest more or less as a joke, but as he reviewed the various stories he had heard of the Mexican idea of justice, he became very much worried. He knew the punishment meted out to a spy and he wondered whether that would be his end. With such thought parading through his brain, he had little chance for sleep that night. Indeed he heard a big clock beyond the barracks walls toll every hour from midnight until dawn.
At seven o’clock breakfast was brought to him by an uncouth looking private in a dirty white uniform. The meal consisted of tortillas, made of corn flour, and frijoles, which are black Mexican beans. There was not even a cup of water with which to wash it down. Though Jack had had very little to eat the day before, the sight of the mess brought by the soldier sickened him, and he put the tin plate aside untouched.
An hour later an officer with four privates came into the guardhouse and unlocked the door of Jack’s cell. The lad observed that each of the soldiers carried a shining rifle at port arms and the officer entered with sword drawn. At this he became speechless with horror. Was this a firing squad! Was he going to be executed without the formality of trial? He was almost too weak to walk when the officer spoke to him in Spanish and motioned for him to come forth. Silently the soldiers formed behind him and urged him forward out of the guardhouse and on to the parade grounds.
His heart-breaking suspense ended there, however, when he noted the direction in which the soldiers turned him. Instead of marching out into the center of the enclosure they headed directly for a building that looked very much like a large dwelling. To the young American it appeared as if it might be the home of the commander of the barracks. He hoped it was, for in that case he could be certain of some form of trial at least, during which he could doubtlessly explain about the drawings.
The boy was ushered before the austere old General by the officer alone, the guard remaining on duty before the door. The commander was seated at a desk in the center of a well-lighted, cheerful-looking room, a uniformed orderly at his elbow. The other occupant of the room was the Secret Service man who had arrested him the day before. Both were poring over the drawings of the lightning arrester which the detective had confiscated, while on the corner of the officer’s desk was Jack’s traveling bag which had been forced open, possibly for the purpose of finding other evidence against him.
The detective and the officer looked up as the youth entered. Jack’s officer escort saluted and retired to the rear of the room, leaving the lad standing in the middle of the floor alone. The detective cleared his throat and spoke.
“I shall be what you call the interpreter. I spik Mexican, I spik also Inglis. Shall you be content?” he queried.
“I will be contented if you will believe what I tell you,” said Jack rather curtly. “It is ridiculous to arrest me as a spy. I am an American citizen and those drawings are not war plans or details of a ‘war machine,’ as you suggested yesterday. They are plans for an electrical appliance that is to be built by Mr. Harry Ryder, in order to give better light to Mexico City.”
The detective looked at him with doubt plainly written on his countenance. Then he turned and in rapid fire sentences imparted Jack’s story to the general. The officer also appeared to doubt the youth’s statement. He was silent for a few moments, however, while he pondered the situation; then through the interpreter he asked: