d numb. Then gradually it was borne in on me that the Plaza itself
looked rather more empty-sided than it should. A cold hand gripped my
heart. I began to skirt the smouldering embers of the shanties and
wooden warehouses, trying to follow where the streets had been. Men were
prowling about everywhere, blackened by smoke, their clothing torn and
burned.

"Can you make out where Higgins's store was?" one of them hailed me. "I
had a little shanty next door, and some gold dust. Figure I might pan it
out of the ashes, if I could only find the place."

I had no time to help him, and left him prowling around seeking for a
landmark.

The Plaza was full of people. I made my way to the northerly corner,
and, pushing a passage through the bystanders, contemplated three
jagged, tottering brick walls, a heap of smouldering debris, and a
twisted tangle of iron work. This represented all that remained of the
Ward Block. The change of wind that had saved the shanties had destroyed
our fortune!

CHAPTER XLVI

THE VISION

Within ten hours men were at work rebuilding. Within ten days the burned
area was all rebuilt. It took us just about the former period of time to
determine that we would be unable to save anything from the wreck; and
about the latter period for the general public to find it out.

Talbot made desperate efforts for a foothold, and in succession
interviewed all the big men. They were sorry but they were firm. Each
had been hard hit by the fire; each had himself to cover; each was
forced by circumstances to grasp every advantage. Again, they were
sorry.

"Yes, they are!" cried Talbot; "they just reach out and grab what ought
to be my profits! Well, it's the game. I'd do the same myself."

By that night we knew that Talbot had lost every piece of property he
owned--or thought he owned. The destruction of the Ward Block swept away
every cent of income, with the exception of the dividends from the Wharf
Company stock. These latter could not begin to meet the obligations of
interest and agreed payments on the other property.

The state of affairs became commonly known in about ten days simply
because, in those rapid times, obligations were never made nor money
lent for longer periods than one month. At the end of each thirty days
they had to be renewed. Naturally Talbot could not renew them.

We knew all that long in advance, and we faced the situation with some
humour.

"Well, boys," said Talbot, "here