Monday Morning
I am advising Dr. Ryan to get off to Torreon. I myself telegraphed to Admiral Fletcher, asking that a box of hospital stores, bandages, cotton, iodine, adhesive tape, and bichloride tablets be sent up by the officer who is coming up to stay with us. Dr. Ryan can get off to-morrow afternoon. There is work, much work, to do, and I am sick that “my position” prevents me from going with him. My hands are trembling for work.
As to news, everybody in town is pleased, Huertistas and Villistas alike. The former have had word of complete victory—and the latter hears that the rebel forces had taken every gate in Torreon and that the Federals were in full retreat!