In one of the revolutionary speeches made by the late Don Francisco R. Cantu y Falomir, as he styled himself with pride, he laid special stress upon the statement that not since Mexico became a part of the great United States of America, had a man of purely Mexican origin been at the head of the nation. He claimed that the prejudices the Anglo-Saxon race had against the Latin races—particularly those of Spanish and Indian origin—were the cause of their great men being kept in the background. He even claimed that many of the best people of Anglo-Saxon origin objected strongly to the mixing of the blood by marriage. If such had ever been the state of feeling, the fact that a strongly Anglo-Saxon faction now wished to elect Señor Don Miguel Lehumada, the present Governor of the great and famous State of Chihuahua, a man through whose veins none but Latin blood had ever flowed, to the presidency of the United States of America, would forever stamp out the erroneous idea that any prejudices existed.
Also a further proof of the fact was the marriage soon to take place between Governor Lehumada and Helen Hinckley, whose family had since time out of mind prided itself upon its royal Anglo-Saxon blood.
What can more closely unite two nations than a marriage for love between them? The eyes of the whole world were centered upon these two people. Helen Hinckley was called the great heroine of the age, and the press never tired of lauding her bravery in saving the life of the great Governor of Chihuahua, even at the peril of her own life. That while she understood how to overcome the law of gravitation, so far as her own ability to propel herself through space was concerned, it was a noble deed for her to risk her own life in the way she did to save another.
The rebels seemed to have flown from the town which was their starting point.
The fate of their leaders, no doubt had a great effect in cooling the ardor of their revolutionary intentions. Chihuahua was possibly, so far as the rebellion was concerned, the most quiet capital in the Union.
In many other respects it was the liveliest, and it certainly was the center of attraction of the scientific world, and the great Mecca to which all great thinkers were flocking, for whom it was possible to leave their business and homes.
The great test case of “Memory Fluid,” which would be decided at the trial of the “Plunger from Kansas,” was causing an influx of legal talent as well as scientists, free-thinkers, and students of the occult.
The fact that the Plunger had given himself into the hands of the law for the settlement of the crimes he committed in another life, when there was no civil law covering the case, was considered within itself sufficient proof of the value of “Memory Fluid” to science. The fear and trembling that took hold of some of the uninitiated when they thought that they might have been guilty of a crime in the past of which they now had no knowledge and for which they would be brought to the bar of justice, was certainly sufficient reason for their greatly disturbed minds.
The large hotels in Chihuahua were fairly groaning under the burden of caring for such a great number of people which increased in number each day, all of whom were flocking to the city with the same object in view: That of hearing the trial of the most famous case in the annals of man. To see the man who confessed to the crime of which he was accused; to hear his testimony of having lived through at least three lives; to hear him confess to having known in lives gone by the very people who bore witness against him; to see the child, Catalina Martinet, who was conscious of having lived another life and the tomb where she was buried; the wonderful woman who had won the heart of the Governor—the woman who could suspend the law of gravitation at will; the men who had discovered “Liquid from the Sun’s Rays,” and to see the ebonized figures in the Museum, was certainly enough to draw the crowd that was gathering in the great city.
The morning on which the trial would begin, dawned clear and cool. Long before nine o’clock, the hour for opening the court, the halls and rooms adjoining the great court-room were filled to overflowing.