"You have done us a great service, young man," said the gentleman when I had concluded. "I was once in the butcher business myself,—in fact, I am in it yet, but only in the export trade,—and I know full well how dangerous bulls can get. Had it not been for you my little girl might have been torn to pieces. One of her dolls is dressed in red, and this would have attracted the bull's immediate attention. I thank you deeply." He grasped my hand warmly. "May I ask your name?"
"Roger Strong, sir."
"My name is Harrison—James Harrison. You live here in Chicago, I suppose?"
"No, sir, I come from Darbyville, New Jersey."
"Darbyville?" He thought a moment. "I never heard of such a town."
"It is only a small place several miles from New York. I came to Chicago on business. I arrived about half an hour ago."
"Really? Your introduction into our city has been rather an exciting one."
"I've had other adventures fully as exciting in the past few days," I returned.
"Yes?" and Mr. Harrison eyed me curiously.
"Yes. Our train was delayed, I almost had my handbag stolen, and I've been arrested as a thief."