of its brick and terra-cotta walls as it was when the erecting gang had swung it into place, a few years before.
The stairs were gone; the elevator shafts also. There was nothing for him but to return. If he could not go down, he would go up. Odd to relate, fear was giving place to curiosity. He heard the roar of the 12-inch shells, as they hurtled past the tower to fall upon the doomed city, and the observation platform would enable him to watch the stupendous spectacle of its destruction.
He gained the platform just in time to see two shells, in quick succession, pass through the top stories of the towering Equitable Life Building, and blast two gaping holes in the south wall.
The next mark was the beautiful tower that crowned the Municipal Building. The percussion fuses were functioning with deadly precision; nothing wrong with
