Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1906-04-24

along, q red, rat raced man Stanulng
up in it hopping his brow, his eyes
searching for the building that holds
his business, and little street boys
darting in and out, snatching what
they can get, throwing that away and
snatching more, like children wanton-
ly picking wild flowers. / see one little
creature capering with three hats on
his head that he had taken from a
show window.
Before the banks and safe deposit
vaults the men and boys employed
there are busy pulling out drawers
full of ledgers and valuable papers,
carrying them away in their hands.
loading them into wagons and even
into wash buckets.
On the step of one bank, with the
fire only a block away, l see a man
wringing his hands and crying aloud:
"Will he never come? Will he never
come with the combination? My God,
why doesn't he Gomez
can't get to the Postal telegraph Of
flee for the dead line Of the police and
wrecked, with bewildering clerks re-
peating Cali wires down. All wires
down. to the pale faced and dirty
faced men and women who want to
send messages out reassuring their
friends.
Every few seconds there is boom
ing sound that adds to the horror, the
confusion and fearsomeneSS of the
scene 1t comes from the dynamite
detonations where they are trying to
check the spread Of the fire by blowing
up buildings.
A theatrical man comes running
along telling how the Grand Opera
House has fallen in and is on fire with
all Conried's grand opera settings and
the singers beautiful things going up
In smoke. He laughs idiotically, poor
chap, and says, Sudden close OF the
opera season, isn't it?''
The newspaper offices still stand, but
this is only o'clock, and with their
power cut off there is no way to get
off the extras that would sell like hot
cakes. 1 see before the door of every
one my fellows gathered in silence, for
once, and dazedly looking on. 1t is too
awesome a scene even for the newspa-
per men.
1 try to make my way to the ferry,
first down one street and then down
another leading to the water front.
Each one as try, from Post to Wash
ington, is closed by fire or wreckage,
and there is no way through. On
Washington street, opposite the old
postoffice, building has completely
collapsed, and under its edges are
horses struggling and dying. AT last l
find an open way on the next street,
and, with the warmth of the blaze of
water front saloons on my back, hur-
~ across the upheaved street and
twisted car tracks. This is made
ground, and the earthquake played
with it as a child plays with card
board, cracking, creaSing and bending it.
On the bay side of the water front
the old docks have tumbled and look
like so much kindlng wood. The tow
er of the ferry building is destroyed
and broken. The passengers stream
aboard the ferry boat-the only boats
running are the Southern Pacific-and
turn to look back upon their city. From
this point there is something colossal
in the disaster that has befallen. A
great cloud is rising magnificent and
overwhelming in its proportions, grow
ing ever black and blacklist toward the
ground, spreading wider and wider
The red flames shoot skyward through
it and but emphasize its density and
violence.