"And all in a half an hour?" The gentleman and his wife both looked incredulous.
"No, sir; since I've left home."
"I should like to hear your story—that is, if you care to tell it."
"I will tell you the whole thing if you care to listen," I returned, reflecting that my newly made friend might give me some material assistance in my quest.
"Then come into the house."
"I'd better shut the alley gate first," said I, and running down I did so, and picked up my handbag as well.
Mr. Harrison led the way inside. I could not help but note the rich furnishings of the place—the soft carpets, artistically papered walls, the costly pictures and bric-a-brac, all telling of wealth.
Mrs. Harrison and the little girl had disappeared up the stairs. Mr. Harrison ushered me into his library and motioned me to a seat.
I hardly knew how to begin my story. To show how John Stumpy had had me arrested, it would be necessary to go back to affairs at Darbyville, and this I hesitated about doing.
"If you have time I would like to tell you about my affairs before I started to come to Chicago," I said. "I would like your advice."