“Our hotel next,” said Johnny.
“That’s safe enough; there’s a wide lot between,” I observed.
A fresh crew of firefighters took the place of the others–namely, those personally interested in saving the hotel.
“Lucky the night is so still,” said Talbot.
We watched Warren’s place burn with all the half guilty joy of those who are sorry; but who are glad to be there if it has to happen. Suddenly Talbot threw up his head.
“Feel that breeze?” he cried.
“Suction into the fire,” suggested Johnny.
But Talbot shook his head impatiently, trying to peer through the glare into the sky.
It was a very gentle breeze from the direction of the ocean. I could barely feel it on my cheek, and it was not strong enough as yet to affect in the slightest the upward-roaring column of flame. For a moment I was inclined to agree with Johnny that it was simply a current of air induced by the conflagration. But now an uneasy motion began to take place in the crowd. Men elbowed their way here and there, met, conferred, gathered in knots. In less than a minute Talbot signalled us. We made our way to where he was standing with Sam Brannan, Casey, Green, and a few others.
429“Thank God the wind is from the northwest,” Talbot said fervently. “The Ward Block is safely to windward, and we don’t need to worry about that, anyway. But it is a wind, and it’s freshening. We’ve got to do something to stop this fire.”