spite of the protests of the concrete foreman, who was an American; then the latter lost his temper and jerked the officer’s horse off the concrete. When I heard of the occurrence, which was only a few minutes later, I dashed off to the _Jefe Politico_ to put our case before him before any exaggerated version could reach him. On the second occasion a police captain ordered me to remove some barricades I had across a street so that the carriage of some big-wig could drive across. I refused, and told the captain he could remove it himself if he were willing to take the consequences. He rode off, threatening all sorts of things, but I never saw him again. My pet aversions are the milkmen, who have caused me more trouble than all the rest put together. The milkmen in Mexico ride on horseback and carry the milk in four large cans, hung two on each side of the saddle, one in front and one behind the leg; thus they gallop from house to house making their deliveries. They and the hack-drivers are the toughest element in the city. On one occasion I warned two of them not to cross the street on which I was working, but the minute my back was turned they galloped across, thinking that I could not catch them on foot. But I happened to have my horse at the next corner, and I mounted and galloped the block, caught up to them, and grabbed one man’s horse by the bridle. After a little argument, finding I was determined to take him to the commissaria, he suddenly leaned forward, slipped the headstall over the horse’s head, and dashed off, leaving the bridle in my hands. His companion, though, thought he would put up a fight, demanded the bridle, and on my refusal started for me. I generally carry on the work a Luger automatic pistol in a holster slung from the shoulder, so that the gun hangs just under the left armpit. When the man came forward I jerked my coat open instinctively, on which he turned and fled. The joke of the thing was that I had no pistol with me at the time, though I had forgotten the fact when I reached for it. On another occasion one of them galloped past my concrete foreman, who made a snatch at him, and at the same time the man put out his hand to push him away. The foreman’s hand closed on his wrist, and off he came over his horse’s tail, while his steed galloped on. I was standing a few feet away, and the man’s face, as he felt himself going, was really too funny. Of course we had no right to take the law into our own hands in this way, but we had to do so in self-defence, or we should have got no work done at all. I told the foreman he must be more careful, which he promised to be, and a day or two later he told me a dairykeeper had ridden over the work with two of his milkmen, and when called to had cursed him for his pains. He described the man, and, as I knew him, I looked him up and told him that he must not do it again, and that I thought he owed the foreman an apology. He was the black sheep of one of