y were more convenient than dust, and it was
realized that only the last holders could lose.]

CHAPTER XLV

THE CATASTROPHE

So things went along for a month. Christmas drew near. Every joint in
town was preparing for a big celebration, and we were fully in the mood
to take part in it. The Ward Block was finished. From top to bottom it
had been swept and cleared. Crowds came every day to admire the varnish,
the glass, the fireplaces, the high plastered walls; to sniff the clean
new smell of it. Everybody admitted it to be the finest building in the
city. Yank, Johnny, and I spent most of our time proudly showing people
around, pointing out the offices the various firms intended to occupy.
Downstairs Jim Reckett was already installing some of the splendours
that were to make the transplanted El Dorado the most gorgeous gambling
place in town. Here the public was not admitted. The grand opening, on
New Year's day, was not thus to lose its finest savour.

On Christmas eve we went to bed, strangely enough, very early. All the
rest of the town was celebrating, but we had been busy moving furniture
and fixtures, had worked late in order to finish the job, and were very
tired. By this time we were so hardened that we could sleep through any
sort of a racket, so the row going on below and on both sides did not
bother us a bit. I, personally, fell immediately into a deep slumber.

The first intimation of trouble came to me in my sleep. I dreamed we
were back on the Porcupine, and that the stream was in flood. I could
distinctly hear the roar of it, as it swept by; and I remember Johnny
and myself were trying desperately to climb a big pine tree in order to
get above the encroaching waters. A wind sprang up and shook the pine
violently. I came slowly to waking consciousness, the dream fading into
reality. Yank was standing by my cot, shaking me by the shoulder. He was
fully dressed, and carried his long rifle.

"Get up!" he told me. "There's a big fire one or two doors away, and
it's headed this way."

Then I realized that the roar of the flames had induced my dream.

I hastily slipped on my clothes and buckled my gold belt around my
waist. The fire was humming away in a steady crescendo, punctuated by
confused shouts of many men. Light flickered redly through the cracks of
the loosely constructed hotel building. I found Johnny awaiting me at
the door.

"It's a hummer," he said; "started in Denison's Exchange. T