was discovered in
Cripple Creek he was right on hand. In 1873, I think it was, the county
built the Cripple Creek Stage Road. Dad was a pretty old man then, but
not too old to see his opportunity. With a little outside capital, he
constructed that famous mountain inn, the Road House. In a short time
after it opened for business it became a very popular place, and was soon
producing a nice little revenue for Dad.

"The night the house was burned, you remember, I said was dark and
stormy. It was in the summer, and a typical mountain storm was in full
blast. The thunder and lightning were terrific. When the down stage
pulled up at the inn, just before dark, they decided to stay for the
night, fearing a possible cloudburst. It happened that the stage was full
of passengers that night. There was a little Irishman who had just
discovered a fine ledge of onyx out north of Cripple Creek, and a couple
of engineers who had been surveying for a mine over in Cookstove Gulch.
Besides these there was a hard-looking old scalawag, who kept his
business all to himself. As they sat at supper, Dad noticed that the
old-timer eyed him very closely, yet had nothing to say; and as he looked
back on that night, long after the fire, he remembered a lot of little
incidents that gave evidence to his own theory. For instance, several
times during the evening the old stranger rose from his seat and went out
into the night. He seemed very nervous about something. He did not mingle
with the other men, but sat well back in the corner by himself. When it
became time to go to bed, the old man insisted on sleeping on a couch
near the fireplace. Old Ben, who was there at the time, said afterward he
remembered some one moving about the cabin in the night.

"The storm was at its worst. Suddenly out of the raging storm Dad's dog
let out a long, fierce yelp, followed by several low growls. Dad shouted
down to him to be quiet, supposing he had smelled a coyote or a pole-cat
outside. He was quiet for a few moments, then a second time he howled and
scratched at the door. There was a loud cursing, that was nearly lost in
a peal of thunder, then the cry of 'Fire!' The smoke of the burning logs
was already streaming up the open stairway. The outside door opened and
shut, yet the dog was left inside. Almost before the sleeping guests
could grab their clothes, the whole house was a sheet of flame. There was
a wild scramble for the back stairway. Dad hurried down the