All these things were done in the name of socialism, and in that name, also, the power of Reguladora gold was felt even in the heart of the United States, in a heart made sensitive to such machinations by the nervous strain of the war which was already at our throats. Not a little of the money derived from the sale of henequen at prices four and five times normal was used in the conducting of a campaign of propaganda. Mexican and foreign “socialists” were kept in the United States lecturing and writing and publishing magazines and books. These activities were radical and, in part at least, I. W. W., in general character but they were devoted also to spreading the fame of the Alvarado brand of socialization of industry in Yucatan and to the dissemination of anti-American ideas under the guise of socialism. It was glory and it was madness to strike thus at the heart of the “Colossus of the North” as the anti-foreign Mexican orators like to call the United States, and at the very same time at the “Colossus of Mammon,” as the wilder socialists referred to us in Yucatan. Carranza had tried the former form of baiting, but the combination of the two was an orgy of glory reserved for the satellites of Alvarado. Never was anything quite so daring and quite so magnificent ever done by a Mexican revolutionist before, and not even Carranza dared do more. So glory and madness traveled together, but meanwhile, out in the henequen fields and in the Indian villages, Yucatan toiled on. The simple natives could not quite appreciate the “socialists” and literally fled in terror before some of their manifestations, so that in that day, and in this as well, they tell you with eager friendship to “beware of these terrible socialists.” To them, “socialist” is a name associated with things that are, to their simple minds, quite unsocial. Alvarado, in his “conquest” of Yucatan, had frankly spread terror throughout the peninsula. Opposed, on his triumphal march to Merida, by a small “home guard” of upper and middle class youths, he had captured and shot scores of them in cold blood, as “traitors,” and pursued his way. He had, as I have noted, closed and sacked the churches, remarking that “As the revolution advances, God recedes.” Then, on one of the main boulevards of Merida, he had allowed the dead bodies of two who had offended him to swing from sunrise to sunset from a limb of an oak tree, so that thereafter the simple words, “Remember the oak tree,” were sufficient to bring the stoutest-hearted conservative to terms.