to censor the reading of the mill workers and to allow no radical newspapers or Liberal literature to get into their hands. More than that, he has orders to kill anyone whom he suspects of having evil intentions. Yes, I said kill. It is carte blanche with Gomez, and no questions asked. He asks no one's advice and no court sits on his action, either before or after. And he does kill. If he sees a man on the street and gets any whimsical suspicion of him, dislikes his dress or his face, it is enough. That man disappears. I remember a laborer in the dye-mixing room who spoke some words friendly to Liberalism; I remember a spool tender who mentioned the strike; there have been others—many others. They have disappeared suddenly, have been swallowed up and nothing heard of them but the whispers of their friends!"
Of course, it is impossible in the nature of things to verify this statement, but it is worth noting that it does not come from a revolutionist.
The trade unionists of Mexico are, of course, by far the best paid workers in the country. Because of the opposition of both employers and government, as well as the deep degradation out of which it is necessary for the Mexican to climb before he is able to pluck the fruits of organization, unionism is still in its infancy in Mexico. It is still in its swaddling clothes and, under the circumstances as they exist today, its growth is slow and fraught with great hardship. So far, there is no Mexican Federation of Labor.
The principal Mexican unions in 1908, as set forth to me by Felix Vera, president of the Grand League of Railroad Workers, and other organizers, were as follows:
The Grand League of Railroad Workers, 10,000 mem-
