Towns Built on Speculation and Empty Hotels

One sees some odd things in a new country where speculation seeks to convert the wilderness into cities. At a certain point in Washington which I decline to name, I saw a town equipped with almost everything except inhabitants. There was a bank, a newspaper office, a hotel, a wharf, water works, and sidewalks, but the total population did not exceed fifteen or twenty. The newspaper comes out regularly every week, the bank would receive deposits if there were any depositors, and the hotel would run if it only had a landlord and guests. There is no way to get to the place save by boats, for no road reaches it. At another place—a village of 1,500 inhabitants, I put up at a superb hotel with sixty guest chambers luxuriously furnished. There were electric lights and steam heaters throughout the house. Dinner was served at six from a bill of fare as varied as that at the big fashionable hotel in Portland, and the cooking was excellent. Yet, there were only ten people at the table, and the only names registered that day were those of my friend and myself. The hotel was built with real estate profits and its financial deficit is made up from the same source.