ed. "There, Uncle Harold has
summoned a boat and we will take you back at once to our floating home."

"Am I sick? did I faint, papa?" she asked. "Oh,"--with a burst of tears
and sobs--"I remember now! Oh, those poor, poor men! Papa, were they all
killed?"

"Don't be so distressed, dear child," he said with emotion. "I think they
must have been almost instantly suffocated by the gas, and did not feel
anything that followed."

"Your father is right," said Harold, close at her side; "and though it was
a very dreadful thing for them to be sacrificed in that way, and hurried
into eternity without a moment's warning, they are not suffering pain of
body now, and we can only hope that with their last breath they cried to
the God of all grace for pardon and salvation." As he concluded his
sentence the boat he had signalled was close at hands the rest of their
party came up at that moment, all embarked, and they were soon on board
the _Dolphin_, where they remained for the rest of that day, feeling too
much shocked over the dreadful catastrophe at the Storage Building to care
to go anywhere else.

Poor, feeble Grace was almost overwhelmed with pity and horror, weeping
bitterly much of the time. The others, especially her father, did all in
their power to comfort her with the hope that at least some of the killed
were prepared for heaven, and with plans for giving aid and consolation to
their bereaved wives, children, and other relatives who had been dependent
upon their exertions for support.

The next day brought a very pleasant surprise in the arrival among them of
their cousin, Dr. Conly, with his wife and her brother, Sandy McAlpin.
The sight of her old physician, and Marian, of whom she was very fond, did
much to restore Grace to her usual spirits, and all went together to view
various interesting exhibits.

The first to which they gave their attention was that of the relics of the
Cliff Dwellers. It was in the southeastern part of the grounds, and was a
reproduction of Battle Rock Mountain, Colorado. As you neared it you
seemed to see before you a cliff, for though built of timbers, iron,
stone, staff, and boards, it wore the appearance of rock and earth. There
was a cavernous opening which had the effect of a canyon, and in niches
high up were the dwellings, in miniature, of the ancient people who once
lived among the tablelands of our southwestern territories; but portions
of the real houses were shown in order to