"What is it?" he demanded as he paid his money.
"Dunno!" the boy replied, breathlessly--"'Xpect everybody's dead down California way!"
Gwent unfolded the journal and stared at the great headlines, printed in fat black letters, still smelling strongly of printer's ink.
Appalling Earthquake In California!--Mountain Upheaval!--Towns Wiped Out!--Plaza Hotel Engulfed!--Frightful Loss of Life!
His eyes grew dim and dazzled--his brain swam,--he gazed up unseeingly at the blue sky, the tall "sky-scraper" houses, the sweep of human and vehicular traffic around him; and to his excited fancy the beautiful face of Manella came, like a phantom, between him and all else that was presented to his vision--that face warm and glowing with woman's tenderness--the splendid dark eyes aflame with love for a man whose indifference to her only strengthened her adoration and he seemed to hear the deep defiant voice of Roger Seaton ringing in his ears-"Annihilation! A holocaust of microbes! I would--and could--wipe them off the face of the earth in twenty-four hours!" He could--and would!
"And by Heaven," said Gwent, within himself--"He's done it!"