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Published on the first Sunday of each month as a section of the N. Y. American, Boston American, Chicago Examiner, Hearst's American, Atlanta, Ga.. and the second Sunday of each month with the San Francisco Examiner and Los Angeles Examiner Jack London Synopsis of Previous Instalment—It was in the year 2073. Sixty years had passed since the Scarlet Plague had tumbled civilization back into the hunting and fishing stage. The last survivor of the great disaster was telling his savage grand children as they sat on the de serted beach near San Fran cisco, of how it all happened. He had been a Professor of English Literature. When the plague reached San Francisco the population fled in mobs to ward the coun try, fighting, robbing and kill- Copyright, 1913. by Jack London ing cac h Other. Chapter III ETURNING to the corner, I found the two robbers were gone. The Poet and his wife lay dead on the pave ment. It was a shocking sight. The two children had vanished—whither I could not tell. And I knew, now, why it was that the fleeing persons I encountered slipped along so furtive ly and with such white faces. In the midst of our civil ization, down in our slums and labor-ghettos, we had bred a race of barbarians, of savages, and now, in the time of our calamity, they turned upon us like the wild beasts they were and destroyed us. And they destroy ed themselves as well. They inflamed themselves with strong drink and committed a thousand atrocities, quar reling and killing one another in the general madness. One group of workingmen I saw, of the better sort, who had banded together, and, with their women and chil dren in their midst, the sick and aged in litters and being carried, and with a number of horses pulling a truckload of provisions, they were fighting their way out of the city. They made a fine spectacle as they came down the street through the drifting smoke, though they nearly shot me when I first appeared in their path. As they went by, one of their leaders shouted out to me in apologetic explanation. He said they were killing the robbers and looters on sight, and that they had thus banded together as the only means by which to escape the prowlers. “It was here that I saw for the first time what I was soon to see so often. One of the marching men had suddenly shown the unmistakable mark of the plague. Immediately those about him drew away, and he, with out a remonstrance, stepped out of his place to let them pass on. A womali, most probably his wife, attempted to follow him. She was leading a little boy by the hand. But the husband commanded her sternly to go on, while others laid hands on her and restrained her from following him. This I saw, and I saw the man, also, with his scarlet blaze of face, step into a doorway on the opposite side of the street. I heard the report of his pistol and saw him sink lifeless to the ground. “After being turned aside twice again by advanc ing fires, I succeeded in getting through to the university. On the edge of the campus I came upon a party of university folk who were going in the direction of the Chemistry Building. They were all family men, and their families were with them, including the nurses and the servants. Professor Badminton greeted me, and I had difficulty in recog nizing him. Somewhere he had gone through flames, and his beard was singed off. About his head was a bloody bandage, and his clothes were filthy. He told me he had been cruelly beaten by prowlers, and that his brother had been killed the previous night, in the defense of their dwelling. “Midway across the campus he pointed out sud denly to Mrs. Swinton’s face. The unmistakable scarlet was there. Immediately all the other women set up a screaming and began to run away from her. Her two children were with a nurse, and these also ran with the women. But her husband, Dr. Swin- ton, remained with her. “ ‘Go on, Smith,’ he told me. ‘Keep an eye on the children. As for me, I shall stay with my wife. I know she is as already dead, but I can’t leave her. Afterward, if I escape, 1 shall come to the Chemis try Building, and do you watch for me and let me in.’ “I left him bending over his wife and soothing her last moments, while I ran to overtake the party. We were the last to be admitted to the Chemistry Building. After that, with our automatic rifles, we maintained our isolation. By our plans, we had arranged for a company of sixty to be in this refuge. Instead, every one of the number originally planned had added relatives and friends and whole families until there were over four hundred souls. But the Chemistry Building was large, and, standing by it self, was in no danger of being burned by the great fires that raged everywhere in the city. “A large quantity of provisions had been gathered, and a food committee took charge of it, issuing Just as we were opposite him, he suddenly drew a pistol and shot Dombey through the head rations daily to the various families and groups that arranged themselves into messes. A number of committees were appointed, and we developed a very efficient organization. 1 was on the committee of defense, though for the first day no prowlers came near. We could see them in the distance, however, and by the smoke of their fires knew that several camps of them were occupying the far edge of the campus. Drunkenness was rife, and often we heard them singing ribald songs or insanely shout ing. While the world crashed to ruin about them and all the air was filled with the smoke of its burn ing, these low creatures gave rein to their bestiality and fought and drank and died. And after all, what did it matter? Everybody died anyw'ay, and the good and the bad, the efficient and the weaklings, those that loved to live and those that scorned to live. They passed. Everything passed. “When twenty-four hours had gone by and no signs of the plague were apparent, we congratulated ourselves and set about (figging a well. You have seen the great iron pipes which in those days carried water to all the city-dwellers. We feared that the fires in the city would burst the pipes and empty the reservoirs. So we tore up the cement floor of the 3 Copyright, 1911, by the Star Co.