iers in his pajamas. The next time he was
invited he came at once.

"One night about eight o'clock, General Wood was writing in his office
in the palace. At the outer door stood a solitary sentinel, armed with
a rifle. Suddenly there burst across the plaza, from the San Carlos
Club, a mob of Cubans--probably 600. Within a few minutes a shower of
stones, bricks, bottles and other missiles struck the Spanish Club,
smashing windows and doors. A man, hatless and out of breath, rushed
up to the sentry at the palace entrance and shouted, 'Where's the
General? Quick! The Cubans are trying to kill the officers and men in
the Spanish Club!'

"General Wood was leisurely folding up his papers when the sentry
reached him. 'I know it,' he said, before the man had time to speak.
'I have heard the row. We will go over and stop it.'

"He picked up his riding-whip, the only weapon he ever carries, and,
accompanied by the one American soldier, strolled across to the scene
of {120} the trouble. The people in the Spanish Club had got it pretty
well closed up, but the excited Cubans were still before it, throwing
things and shouting imprecations, and even trying to force a way in by
the main entrance.

"'Just shove them back, sentry,' said General Wood, quietly.

"Around swung the rifle, and, in much less time than is taken in the
telling, a way was cleared in front of the door.

"'Now shoot the first man who places his foot upon that step,' added
the General, in his usual deliberate manner. Then he turned and
strolled back to the palace and his writing. Within an hour the mob
had dispersed, subdued by two men, one rifle and a riding-whip. And
the lesson is still kept in good memory."

"One day about the middle of November the native _calentura_ or fever,
from which General Wood suffered greatly, sent him to his home, which
is on the edge of the town, earlier than usual. He had no sooner
reached the house than he was notified by telephone that a bloody riot
had occurred at San Luis, a town 20 miles out on the {121} Santiago
Railway. The fever was raging in the General, his temperature
exceeding 105, and he was so sick and dizzy that he staggered as he
walked. But with that indomitable will that had served him on many a
night raid against hostile Apaches, he entered his carriage and was
driven back to the city. He picked up his chief signal officer,
Captain J. E. Brady, at the Palace and hastened to the building
occupied by the tele