fro. We got down the ladder and stood off to look at her.

Then the land began twisting like snakes under our feet, and cut
figure eights, till I felt like soapsuds, and lay down on my face.
Then I sat up, and looked at the _Helen Mar,_ which shook and
groaned like a live thing. We heard the trees crack and snap behind
her. She seemed to hang a moment as if she hated to go; and over she
went with a shriek and crash. The water splashed and the dust went
up. Stevey Todd and I ran to the bank, and there lay the Hotel Helen
Mar, ridiculous, bottom side up in the Jiron River.

Stevey Todd sat down and cried.

I was disgusted with seeing the hotel standing on her roof-garden
and thinking of the mess there was inside her, all come of a
tremblorito no bigger than enough to cave in the bank and tip the
_Helen Mar_ over, and enough tidal wave to wash the streets of
Portate, which needed it. I saw the Sarasara shaking her old umbrella
at us, and I was mad. I says to Stevey Todd, "Go on! Run your blamed
old hotel standing on your head!" I says, "I'm going to Greenough,"
and I lit out for Portate, leaving him standing on the bank, with the
tears running down his face, like his heart was broken.

When I came to the harbour I found there were two ships in port
bound for California, and one by way of Panama. She was named the
_Jane Allen_.

The captain's name was Rickhart, a rough man, and the _Jane
Allen_ was an unclean boat, a brigantine, come from bad weather
around the Horn. I went aboard to look her over, and didn't like her.