them. Mounted orderlies were dashing at breakneck speed
between the Presidio and the city. For a moment he wondered, then
remembered that General Funston lived on Nob Hill. He inferred that the
Mechanics' Fair Building, down in the western section of the valley, had
been turned into a hospital, for automobiles were constantly dashing up
and delivering limp and helpless burdens. The old Mission Church,
Dolores, was unharmed, but not far away, and in that crowded district
built upon the filled-in lake, or lagoon, of the Spanish era, he saw
that a large building, doubtless a cheap and flimsy hotel, had sunken
to its upper story, and that people were digging frantically about it.
Every house in the immediate neighborhood had dropped into its cellar or
lurched off its foundations. But it was all like some horrid picture by
Dore: the smoky darkening atmosphere, the jets, the bouquets, the square
masses of flame, each seeming to embrace a block if not more, the dark
slowly rolling clouds not far overhead, the tides of humanity dwarfed by
the distance, the broken dislocated houses, the great haughty defiant
buildings, with the superb conflagration behind them.

One of the neighbors, who lived on the crest, returning from a
reconnoitring expedition, paused and informed him that the mayor had
been persuaded to call a meeting of the more prominent citizens, to
decide, if possible, what might be done to save the city, and to keep
the people from falling into a panic. Mr. Phelan, the "Reform Mayor"--of
the city's last period of municipal decency--had suggested sending to
the military islands for dynamite enough to blow up a wide zone beyond
the fire; but property-owners were already protesting. Many felt sure
the fire would not cross Market Street, others were as certain that the
whole city would go. A corps of marines had been despatched from Mare
Island immediately after the earthquake and would undoubtedly save the
Ferry Building and the docks, but if the fire ran over from Market
Street a few blocks higher up, nothing could save all that great
business, shopping, and hotel district; to say nothing of Chinatown, and
possibly these hills. All South of Market Street was in motion, making
for the ferries or the bare western hills, the Presidio and Park; they
must answer for many of the fires, as they had not given a thought to
cracked chimneys when they wanted their breakfast; but of course crossed
wires and the overhead trolley syst