Movie Pictorial (May 1915)

MOVIE PICTORIAL on a siding. His deep, resonant voice could be heard above the din, giving final instructions to officers who were accompanying their commands into the battle line. Dressed in the trousers of a plain business suit, coatless and with a soft shirt open at the neck exposing a chest of huge proportions, he stood among them giving orders right and left, seeming to have the most minute detail of the plan of cam- paign committed to memory. Denman set up the camera and wound a few feet of film of the scene, and while thus engaged was surprised by the appearance of Claybourne. After a hearty handshake, they advanced to Villa at Denman’s suggestion and Claybourne, who seemed to be on excellent terms with the rebel leader, persuaded him to pose before the camera for a few “close-ups.” This seemed to greatly please the head of the army and he attempted to hold conver- sation with the camera man but, as he spoke no English and Denman no Spanish, the only result was a hearty laugh at the termination of their In- effectual efforts to communicate. Claybourne was much amused and translated friendly greetings from one to the other. r 1 'HEY moved away and Denman decided to hold -*■ to his original plan and take the next train for the south. Claybourne accompanied him and watched him installed on the top of a car directly behind the locomotive. The correspondent then returned to the station to wire to his paper news of the day’s happenings. As the train pulled out, Denman set up the cam- era and ran oil several feet of film with the ma- chine focused on another troop train a few hun- dred yards ahead; then swinging the camera around he swept the tops of the cars in the rear of his position. Cavalry- men were literally swarming over the cars; some sat with their feet hanging over the edge nonchalantly rolling and smoking the inevitable cigarette. Leaving the camera in the care of some friend- ly troopers, Denman made his way back over the train, making friends with the officers and sharing his stock of to- bacco with them. His entire Mexican vocabulary consisted of “Buenas dias,” but he used this to such good advantage and appeared so friendly to the sol- diers that their hatred of the “gringo” vanished and they returned his salutations. Also some of the men had seen him talking with the rebel chief and this gave him added prestige among them. Moving back over the train, Denman decided to enter the coach at the rear end, thinking possibly to find some of his acquaintances that he had met in Jiminez. Most of these were Americans—soldiers of for- tune. In them was the spirit that keeps the world from standing still. They had dared the icy blasts of the Klondike. They had challenged the fevers in the Congo. One of them, not yet more than a boy, had even penetrated to the Forbidden City in the interior of China! They would dare any- thing. When the time came to storm the federal positions they would be in the front rank, cheer- ing on the native Mexicans! Denman liked these fellows. He liked to exchange experiences with them and hear their tales of daring, told simply and without boast. Such men as these were not to be found except in the out-of-the-way places of the world. And there was enough of the kindred spirit in the cinematographer to want to be with them. AS HE walked back over the tops of the cars of the lurching train, Denman sighed at the ever-present evidence of the havoc that war had wrought to this strife-torn country. Near the end of the train, the cinematographer saw that the even line of the cars was broken and that a flat-car had been placed in the train. And on the car was the very latest model aero- plane! Here was a surprise. He had not thought of the rebels using an aeroplane. He lowered him- self down the end ladder of the car and swung across the intervening space to better inspect the plane. As he stepped on the car and made his way around the end of the air-craft, a dark figure sprang suddenly from a position behind the engine. He whirled, quick as a flash, his hand fell to his hip and the cinematographer found himself gazing awkwardly into the dark muzzle of a large caliber automatic. In a lightning inspection of the figure with the gun, Denman saw a boy not over twenty-two dressed in the grease-stained attire of a mechanic, but with clothes of fine texture showing beneath an opening of the jacket. His figure was sinuous and slender, and the muscles were drawn taut as he held the pistol pointed unerringly at the astonished cinematog- rapher. “Captain!” Without turning or moving the gun, he called. Another man in the uniform of a captain of artillery, hastened from some place behind the enclosed driver’s seat. “What is it, Francisco?” he asked, and then noticing the threatening gun, he turned in the direction it was pointed and beheld the intruder. “He is a spy sent here to destroy the plane!” The boy advanced the gun menacingly. He spoke in perfect English, but Denman knew that he was of Spanish blood. His dark, olive complexion and his clear cut features proclaimed him of high caste. “Assuredly I am not a spy,” the cinematographer As he looked a£aln in the air, the plane seemed to completely collapse—and then it fell! HERBERT addressed the older man. “I am merely on my way to the coach at the rear of the train.” “How did you get past the guard, then?” The officer seemed inclined to doubt the conclusion of the boy, but he wanted proof. “There was no guard there.” Denman turned and indicated the way he had come. “At least if there was I failed to see him.” “You are with the army?” “I am a cameraman and am going to secure films of the coming battle.” “A thousand pardons!” The captain motioned the boy to replace the gun. He went toward Den- man and offered his hand. “We are very sorry,” he spoke with the slightest accent. “Well, there is no harm done,” Denman re- sponded, taking the officer’s hand and meeting it in a firm clasp. “Although to tell the truth I did not like the looks of the gun pointed in my direc- tion.” “Francisco is very jealous of the aeroplane and we have heard that it will be destroyed before we are ready to use it.” He brought the boy forward and presented him to Denman. “He may well be jealous of the craft,” the cinematographer replied as he greeted the boy, who begged his pardon in the generous manner of the Latin country. “I have seen hundreds of aero- planes but this is different. If I may pass an opinion on it I would say that it combines the best principles of all of them.” “Do you think so?” the boy asked eagerly. “I assuredly do.” Denman went forward with the two and took a closer view of the plane. He had introduced himself and had learned the names of the two in return. Captain Matero was the older and the boy’s name was Francisco Magon. He was the aviator. The aeroplane was the very last word in scientific construction. The wings were covered with a specially woven cloth that Denman had never before seen, and they were braced in an entirely new way. The machine was of dual control and was driven by an eight cylinder French motor placed in front of the body occupied by the avia- tors. The general style was similar to the French moftoplanes. The boy hung on Denman’s words of approval with the eagerness of a child. “You like it?” he said. “I am so glad; for it is my own invention. T'J ENMAN was astonished and said so. ' Captain Matero explained. “He worked out the plans for it and had it made in Los An- geles. He flew it several times and then it was taken down and brought to Chihuahua. But that is not the most wonderful part.” “Until a few days ago we had to smuggle every- thing for the army across the border. To avoid the risk of the plane falling into the hands of the border patrols, we distributed it in as small parts as possible to our agents and they were to smuggle it over. Parts were taken across in Juarez, some in Calexico, some at Agua Prieta, in fact, at practically every point in Sonora and Chihuahua. “Finally it was all as- sembled at Chihuahua city and Francisco under- took to put it together. And he succeeded after several weeks of work in getting it to fly perfect- ly. Then we at once loaded it on a car and are on our way now to attempt to use it to locate the enemy’s strength, and the plans made to resist us.” It seemed impossible to the cinematographer that a boy of little more than twenty could have planned the air-craft and then put it together from parts assembled in such haphazard way. He gave the boy full praise and watched his face light up with a pleased smile. Matero went in search of the missing guard and returned ex- plaining that the fellow had gone to get tobacco from some of the sol- diers. The boy had worked over the engine during his absence and had it running smoothly. He threw off the greasy clothes and disclosed himself in a well made Ameri- can tailored suit. They were returning to their places in the coach and invited Denman to accom- pany them. Before they could open the coach door, a young girl with the loveliest face Denman had ever seen, stepped out and then stopped at seeing the presence of the stranger. “Francisco—I thought—you had been gone so long,” she was all anxiety for his safety, and her eyes looked love at him. The boy turned to Denman. “This is my sister, Dolores,” he said, and mentioned the cinematog- rapher’s name to the girl. “She helped me put the plane together and can fly it better than I!” Den- man took the slim brown hand she extended and looked deep into the black eyes. She met his look with a fine, frank glance and then her eyes fell. “I am glad to meet my brother’s friends,” she said, and the soft Spanish voice with the faintest trace of an accent thrilled Denman. I I I. O N THE very verge of battle, a week would ordi- narily be an aeon of time to those waiting .to be at the front, yet the seven days that had passed since Denman had met Dolores Magon had seemed no longer than so many golden minutes. Denman had not realized the passage of time until he heard the boy complaining, eager to be allowed to make his initial flight. And the reason was—he was in love. / /-> _ X- I