My mind reverted to the adventure earlier in the day, and I remembered Mr. Harrison’s kind offer.  I had done his little daughter a good turn, and I was positive the gentleman would assist me to the best of his ability.

I decided to call on him at once.  I had his address still in my pocket, and though I was quite tired, I hurried along at a rapid rate.

On the way I revolved in my mind all that had occurred within the past two hours, and by the time I reached Mr. Harrison’s place I had the matter in such shape that I could tell a clear, straightforward story.

I found the gentleman in, and pleased at my return.

“I was afraid you had gotten into more difficulties,” he explained, with a smile.

“So I did but I got out of them again,” I replied.

Sitting down, I gave him the particulars of my visit to Chris Holtzmann and to Sammy Simpson, and handed over the documents for inspection.  Mr. Harrison was deeply interested, and examined the papers with great care.  It took him nearly an hour to do so, and then he plied me with numerous questions.

“Do you know what my advice is?” he asked, at length.

“No, sir.”

“I advise you to have both Holtzmann and Woodward arrested at once.  They are thorough rascals, and your father is the innocent victim of their cupidity.”

“But how can I do that?  No one knows me here in Chicago.”

“Hold up, you make a mistake.  I know you.”

“Yes, but you don’t know anything about me,” I began.

“I know you to be a brave fellow, and brave people are generally honest.  Besides, your face speaks for itself.”

“You are very kind.”

“I have not forgotten the debt I owe you, and whatever I do for you will never fully repay it.”

“And you advise me—­”

“To put the case in the hands of the police without delay.  Come, I will go with you.  Perhaps this Holtzmann may be frightened into a confession.”

“I trust so.  It will save a good deal of trouble.”

“Woodward can be taken into custody as soon as the necessary papers are made out,” concluded.  Mr. Harrison.

An instant later we were on the way.  I wondered what had become of John Stumpy.  It was strange that he had not turned up at the Palace of Pleasure.  Perhaps Mr. Aaron Woodward had intercepted him and either scared or bought him off.

The fellow held much evidence that I wished to obtain, for every letter or paper against Mr. Woodward would make my father’s case so much stronger, and I determined with all my heart that when once brought to trial there should be no failure to punish the guilty, so that the innocent might be acquitted.

At the police station we found the sergeant in charge.  Mr. Harrison was well known in the locality, and his presence gained at once for us a private audience.

The officer of the law gave the case his closest attention, and asked me even more questions than had been put to me before.