But

within that minute a crosstown car had stopped directly in front of the cab.

The cabman tried to pass to the left, but a heavy express wagon cut him off. He

tried the right, and had to back away from a furniture van that had no business

to be there. He tried to back out, but dropped his reins and swore dutifully.

He was blockaded in a tangled mess of vehicles and horses.

One

of those street blockades had occurred that sometimes tie up commerce and

movement quite suddenly in the big city.

"Why

don't you drive on?" said Miss Lantry, impatiently. "We'll be

late."

Richard

stood up in the cab and looked around. He saw a congested flood of wagons,

trucks, cabs, vans and street cars filling the vast space where Broadway, Sixth

Avenue and Thirly-fourth street cross one another as a twenty-six inch maiden

fills her twenty-two inch girdle. And still from all the cross streets they

were hurrying and rattling toward the converging po...