er was to be three miles long, and the Berkeley hills were
denuded of whole groves of mature eucalyptus for the piling.

At the same time that his electric roads were building out through the
hills, the hay-fields were being surveyed and broken up into city
squares, with here and there, according to best modern methods, winding
boulevards and strips of park. Broad streets, well graded, were made,
with sewers and water-pipes ready laid, and macadamized from his own
quarries. Cement sidewalks were also laid, so that all the purchaser
had to do was to select his lot and architect and start building. The
quick service of Daylight's new electric roads into Oakland made this
big district immediately accessible, and long before the ferry system
was in operation hundreds of residences were going up.

The profit on this land was enormous. In a day, his onslaught of
wealth had turned open farming country into one of the best residential
districts of the city.

But this money that flowed in upon him was immediately poured back into
his other investments. The need for electric cars was so great that he
installed his own shops for building them. And even on the rising land
market, he continued to buy choice factory sites and building
properties. On the advice of Wilkinson, practically every electric
road already in operation was rebuilt. The light, old fashioned rails
were torn out and replaced by the heaviest that were manufactured.
Corner lots, on the sharp turns of narrow streets, were bought and
ruthlessly presented to the city in order to make wide curves for his
tracks and high speed for his cars. Then, too, there were the
main-line feeders for his ferry system, tapping every portion of
Oakland, Alameda, and Berkeley, and running fast expresses to the pier
end. The same large-scale methods were employed in the water system.
Service of the best was needed, if his huge land investment was to
succeed. Oakland had to be made into a worth-while city, and that was
what he intended to do. In addition to his big hotels, he built
amusement parks for the common people, and art galleries and club-house
country inns for the more finicky classes. Even before there was any
increase in population, a marked increase in street-railway traffic
took place. There was nothing fanciful about his schemes. They were
sound investments.

"What Oakland wants is a first class theatre," he said, and, after
vainly trying to interest loca