The roof's
falling."
It was true. The shingle-covered space above the burning building
stirred gently, undulating like some wind-ruffled pond. The mansard
windows seemed to bow to the watchers, then slowly sink forward. With a
roar, the whole roof sprang into fire, buckled, collapsed; the veranda
toppled. Smoke poured from the eight mansard windows of the Parker
House, next door. South of the Parker House were single-storied
buildings, one of wood, another of adobe; the first was a restaurant;
over its roof several foreign-looking men spread rugs and upon them
poured a red liquid.
"It's wine," Bob Ridley said. "But they'll never save it. Booker's store
is going, too. Looks like a clean sweep of the block."
Broderick's commanding figure could be seen rushing hither and thither.
"No use," Benito heard him say to one of his lieutenants. "Water won't
stop it. Not enough.... Is there any powder hereabouts?"
"Powder!" cried the other with a blanching face. "By the Eternal, yes! A
store of it is just around the corner. Mustn't let the fire reach--"
Broderick cut him short. "Go and get it. You and two others. Blow up or
pull down that building," he indicated a sprawling ramshackle structure
on the corner.
Pages:
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168