side of East Street, the wide roadway
that divided the city from the water-front and Ferry Building. Far down,
in the South of Market Street district there appeared to be other large
fires.

"Warehouses, probably," said Isabel. "What a sight!" She indicated the
collapsed sheds about the moles, and the twisted and toppling
appearance of the tower on the Ferry Building, which stood on the edge
of the made ground. It was an immense structure of great weight, and
only an uncommon honesty--and vigilance--in building had saved it from
destruction. Had the piles been hollow, or too short to reach bed-rock,
it would either have sunken or tumbled.

And then they noticed that the bay was silent and deserted. It was a
moment before they realized that of the several lines of ferry-boats
none appeared to be running. "That means that the tracks are out of
working order," said Isabel, grimly. "We may have had the best of it,
bad as it was. Ah!" One of the Oakland ferry-boats pushed out of its San
Francisco mole. It was black with people. Isabel stared with wonder. "It
looks as if people were running away from the city. Or perhaps a good
many that live across the bay came over on the same mission as
ourselves, and have been turned back. That would mean that all East
Street was on fire and they could not get into the city. Well, let us
hurry. Even although the fires are so far off they may terrify your
mother. I remember she told me once in England that she had never seen a
fire. I have a queer sensation in my knees."

Gwynne laughed. "I should think you might be used to fires by this time.
And you have a celebrated fire department. I fancy you are just feeling
the reaction."

"I was not a bit frightened during the earthquake!" said
Isabel, indignantly. "But there is nothing _phenomenal_ in fire to brace
one up--and those had a sinister determined look--and that boat-load of
people! I only hope your mother has not run away--under the impression
that San Francisco alone was shaken. We wouldn't find her for a week."

"My mother's nerves are not what they were, but I am positive she will
not run. She is certain to wait for us at the house."

A few moments later they ran the launch up to the landing at the foot of
Russian Hill. There were a few tumbled shanties on the slope, but none
of the well-built houses had been dislodged, and the great buildings on
this water-front were in good condition. Mr. Clatt was not visible, but
left hi