“You are not from Chicago, young fellow?” said the policeman who had me in charge.

“No; I’m from the East.”

“Humph!  Got taken in short, didn’t you?”

“I’m not guilty of any crime,” I returned, “and you’ll find it out when it comes to the examination.”

“I’ll chance it,” replied the officer, grimly.

“That man is a fraud.  If you call on the Manners Clothing Company, you will find it so.”

“That’s not part of my duty.  I’ll take you to the station house, and you can tell the judge your story,” replied the policeman.

Yet I could see by the way his brow contracted that my assertion had had its effect upon him.  Probably had he given the matter proper thought in the first place, he would have compelled John Stumpy to accompany him.

Still, this did me no good.  Here I was being taken to the jail while the man who should have been under arrest was free.  I would probably have to remain in confinement until the following morning, and in the meantime John Stumpy could call on Chris Holtzmann and arrange plans to suit himself.

This would never do, as it would defeat the whole object of my trip West, and send me home to be laughed at by Mr. Aaron Woodward and Duncan.

“Can I ask for an examination at once?” I inquired.

“Maybe; if the judge is there.”

“And if he isn’t?”

“You’ll have to wait till to-morrow morning.  You see it isn’t—­ Hello! thunder and lightning! what’s that?”

As the officer uttered the exclamation there was a wild cry on the streets, and the next instant the crowds of people scattered in every direction.

And no wonder, for down the pavement came an infuriated bull, charging everybody and everything before him.

The animal had evidently broken away from a herd that was being driven to the stock-yards, and his nose, where the ring was fastened, was torn and covered with blood, and he breathed hard, as if he had run a great distance.

“It’s a mad bull!” I cried.  “Take care, or he’ll horn both of us!”

My words of caution were unnecessary, for no sooner had the bull turned in our direction than the officer let go his hold upon me and fled into a doorway near at hand.

For an instant I was on the point of following him.  Then came the sudden thought that now would be a good chance to escape.

To think was to act.  No sooner had the policeman jumped into the doorway than I dodged through the crowd and hurried across the street.  Reaching the opposite side, I ran into an alley.  It was long and led directly into the back garden of a handsome stone mansion.

The garden was filled with beautiful flowers and plants, and in the centre a tiny fountain sent a thin spray into the air.  At one side, under a small arbor, stood a garden bench, and on this sat a little girl playing with a number of dolls.

Her golden hair hung heavy over her shoulders, and she looked supremely happy.  She greeted my entrance with a smile, and took me at once into her confidence.