sick as her heart beat so fast. She half closed her eyes and
tried to think it was nothing, that Columbia City was only a
little way off.

"Chicago! Chicago!" called the brakeman, slamming open the door.
They were rushing into a more crowded yard, alive with the
clatter and clang of life. She began to gather up her poor
little grip and closed her hand firmly upon her purse. Drouet
arose, kicked his legs to straighten his trousers, and seized his
clean yellow grip.

"I suppose your people will be here to meet you?" he said. "Let
me carry your grip."

"Oh, no," she said. "I'd rather you wouldn't. I'd rather you
wouldn't be with me when I meet my sister."

"All right," he said in all kindness. "I'll be near, though, in
case she isn't here, and take you out there safely."

"You're so kind," said Carrie, feeling the goodness of such
attention in her strange situation.

"Chicago!" called the brakeman, drawing the word out long. They
were under a great shadowy train shed, where the lamps were
already beginning to shine out, with passenger cars all about and
the train moving at a snail's pace. The people in the car were
all up and crowding about the door.

"Well, here we are," said Drouet, leading the way to the door.