In His Steps
Chapter 21
“Master, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest.”
The Saturday afternoon matinee at the Auditorium in Chicago was just over and the usual crowd was struggling to get to its carriage before any one else. The Auditorium attendant was shouting out the numbers of different carriages and the carriage doors were slamming as the horses were driven rapidly up to the curb, held there impatiently by the drivers who had shivered long in the raw east wind, and then let go to plunge for a few minutes into the river of vehicles that tossed under the elevated railway and finally went whirling off up the avenue.
“Now then, 624,” shouted the Auditorium attendant; “624!” he repeated, and there dashed up to the curb a splendid span of black horses attached to a carriage having the monogram, “C. R. S.” in gilt letters on the panel of the door.
