[Illustration: This “six months’ leave of absence” granted by Gen. Raul Madero of the Mexican Constitutionalist army to von der Goltz, is declared by von der Goltz to have saved him from the death of a spy, when the British captured him in London. With this document von der Goltz was enabled to convince the London War Office that instead of being a German spy he was a bona-fide Mexican army officer on leave of absence. At the right is the letter of recommendation given von der Goltz by Madero at the same time.] Koglmeier was the only German in El Paso who was a friend of mine, and knew of the existence of those documents which I had been forced to give up through the agency of Mercado’s firing squads. His end subdued the festive spirit in me and I was not sorry when we started back for the interior of Mexico. Torreon was taken by Villa on April 2, 1914, and we settled down there for a brief period of rest and recuperation. Rest! Torreon stands out in my memory as the scene of the most hectic activity I have indulged in. Raul Madero and I have since laughed over the ludicrousness of it. But at the time it was deadly serious. My reputation was at stake. I managed to save it barely by the skin of its teeth. Chief Trinidad Rodriguez got twenty machine guns down from the United States and turned them over to me. “Train your gun crews and get the platoons ready for field service,” he ordered. “You can have three weeks. Then I shall need them.” Without a word I saluted and turned on my heel. I could not very well tell my general that I had never in my life touched even the tip of one finger to a machine gun. The guns arrived next day, as promised. They had been sent to us bare, just the barrels and tripods. There were no holsters, no pack saddles for either guns or ammunition, not one of the accessories which equip a machine gun company for action. I had to start from the ground, in literal truth. And I had not a soul to advise me how to begin. We loaded the guns onto our wagons, took them over to camp and laid them side by side in a long row down the center of an empty ware-house in Torreon. That satisfied me for one afternoon. I went over to Gen. Rodriguez’s quarters. “I’ve got the guns,” I reported. “Good!” he cried. “I shall want the platoons ready for action in three weeks. Not a day later.” It was up to me to have them ready. So I got busy at once. My first move was an abduction. There happened to be in Torreon jail at that time a first class bank robber named Jefferson, who was being held for the arrival of extradition papers from Texas. The day after my guns arrived Jefferson escaped, and though the authorities made diligent search they failed to find him. He knew more about machine guns than I did. His profession had made him an excellent mechanic. Furthermore, he had Yankee ingenuity and American “git up and git.” We soon had all twenty guns set up in working order.