survey of the hospitals, after finding tent
room for Aleta. His press badge gained admittance for him everywhere and
he went through a pretence of taking notes. But he was looking for
Bertha. At a large tent they were establishing an identification bureau,
a rendezvous for separated families, friends or relatives. Many people
crowded this with frantic inquiries.

Soup was being served at the mess kitchens. Great wagons filled with
loaves of bread drove in and were apportioned. Men, women and children
formed in line to get their shares.

The sky was still covered with smoke. Late comers reported that the fire
had crossed Van Ness avenue. There were orders posted all about that one
must not build fires indoors nor burn lights at night. Those who
disobeyed would be shot. The orders were signed by Mayor Schmitz.
Saloons had been closed for an indefinite period. Two men, found looting
the dead, had been summarily executed by military order. Hundreds of
buildings were being dynamited. The dull roar of these frequent
explosions was plainly discernible at the Presidio.

* * * * *

After they had eaten Frank said good-bye to Aleta. He was going back to
town. The feverish adventure of it called him. And he had learned that
there were many other camps of refugees. In one of these he might find
Bertha. A milk wagon, clattering over the cobblestones overtook him and,
without an invitation, he climbed aboard. Frank had little sense of
destination or purpose. He wanted action. The thought of Bertha tugged
at him now like a pain, insistent, quenchless. He tried to stifle it by
movement, by absorbing interest in the wondrous drama all about him.

Suddenly he sprang from the wagon. They had reached the park where he
had learned of Bertha's love. Frank scarcely recognized the tiny
pleasure ground, so covered was it with tents and bedding. It swarmed
with people--a fact which Frank resented oddly. In the back of his mind
was a feeling that this spot was sacred.

He made his way among the litter of fabrics and humanity. These were
mostly people from the valley where a foreign section lay. Loudly and
excitedly they chattered in strange tongues, waving their hands about.
Children wailed. All was disorder, uncontrol.

Sickened of the place Frank turned to go, but something tugged at his
coatsleeve; a haggard, elderly dishevelled man.

Frank looked at the fellow in wonder. Then he gave a cry and took
the