"FIRE! I JUMPED FROM THE BED AND RACED TO THE WINDOW."
Fire! I jumped from the bed and raced to the window. Immediately opposite the hotel I saw a huge pile of blackened wood, from which thick clouds of smoke were slowly curling. The mournful heap represented all that was left of a huge store, whose proprietor I had met and chatted with some eight hours before.
THE GRAND HOTEL, THURSDAY ISLAND, WHERE THEY HAVE EARTHQUAKES "ONLY ABOUT THREE TIMES A WEEK!"
From a Photograph.
I turned to my friend and saw that he was fully dressed.
"How long have you been up?" I asked.
"Three or four hours," he replied. "You see, the flames were coming over this way, and we all lent a hand to get it under."
"But, bless my soul," I said, "why on earth did you let me sleep on here?"