In Mexico

Hollywood Insurrection. Agents of the U. S. Department of Justice, puttering dutifully about lurid Hollywood, Calif., discovered recently an armored truck in the garage of one Herbert Sandburn. Questioned, Mr. Sandburn volubly explained that a Mexican, Senor Benjamin Roqe, had commissioned him to equip four heavy trucks with armor plate--each truck to mount two one-pound cannon and four machine guns. Only one truck had been completed. Dissimulating their suspicions, assuring Mr. Sandburn that they believed him when he said the trucks were to be used for pay roll transport, the agents of the Department of Justice began to sleuth. . . . Early one evening last week the trucks rumbled forth, were boarded by 174 "laborers," set out for the Mexican border. At Dalzura, three miles from the frontier, A. A. Hopkins of the Department of Justice pounced with a detachment of well armed operatives, arrested the "laborers," seized the trucks which contained 400 Springfield rifles, 155,000 rounds of ammunition. On examining his captives, Mr. Hopkins dubbed General Enrique Estrada, onetime Mexican Secretary of War, "ringleader" on the basis of documents found on him which seemed to purport conspiracy with revolutionaries in Mexico. "I do not think that the religious troubles of Mexico had anything to do with this," said able Agent Hopkins, "I believe it was simply an attempt of the 'outs' to get 'in.'" General Estrada, unable to furnish $20,000 personal bail, languished with the rest of his "army" in the jail at San Diego last week, charged with "organizing a military expedition against a friendly country." Bland Exchange. Between the Archbishop of Mexico and President Calles there passed last week an exchange of notes more amiable in tone than any previous pronouncement by the Episcopate or Administration since enforcement of the anti-religious Constitution of Mexico was begun (TIME, July 12). Archbishop Jose Mora y Del Rio dispassionately requested President Calles to suspend the enforcement statutes of the Constitution until the Mexican Parliament should have opportunity to strike out the Constitution's anti-religious clauses by amendment.

President Plutarco Elias Calles, once so brusque as to stigmatize "the grunts of the Pope" (TIME, July 26) replied with courteous inflexibility to the Archbishop:

"Senor Jose Mora y Del Rio:

"With reference to your communication . . . you have rightfully exercised your right of petition by applying to one of those able to initiate laws, but I must sincerely tell you that I am the least fitted person to comply with the said petition ... as the constitutional articles you protest against are in perfect accord with my philosophical and political conviction. . . .

"If, in view of my refusal to ignore the laws and to seek the abolition or amendment of them, you still wish to use lawful means to attain your desires, the way is open to address your petition to the Deputies and Senators of the Federal Congress or to the local Legislatures. . . ."

Because President Calles has heretofore never formulated his defiance of Catholicism in such polite terms, the aged Achbishop emerged "beaming" from his perusal of a letter which addressed him simply as "Senor" ("Mister")

Next day Bishop Diaz of Tabasco, active spokesman for the Mexican Episcopate was granted an audience with President Calles. Though the Government was reported to have stood firm on the letter of the present anti-religious laws, Bishop Diaz hinted guardedly to newsgatherers that a formula might be found under which the holding of Catholic services would be tolerated, though discouraged by the State.

Boycott Continued. The anti-Calles boycott of all Mexican industry by Catholics continued last week, gained little headway in Mexican cities, began to curtail seriously business in the smaller towns. Catholic zealots substituted for the conventional greeting, "Good morning," last week, the innovations, "Long live Christ!" and "Christ is our King!"

Deputies Rampant. Though the police of Mexico City exercised notable vigilance last week and generally preserved perfect order, a revolver battle was fought between contentious Mexican Deputies last week before the Hotel Iturbide, not ten paces from a well-patronized U. S.-owned tearoom.

While many a U. S. maid and matron dived beneath tea tables, shrieked, the embattled Deputies potshot at each other from opposite sidewalks. Onetime Governor Garillo of the state of Tabasco fell at once, mortally wounded in the face. Col. Andres Garcia was killed outright. Others were wounded.

The nature of the quarrel which impelled so much bloodshed was not ascertained.