The old merchant rolled up his sleeve to the shoulder, and showed his son a white scar running down almost the whole length of the upper arm. The wound had evidently been a deep one. “I got that from the dragon,” he said. “You’d a real fight, then?” ejaculated Perry, surprised at this evidence of an actual encounter. “I was laid up for nearly a month,” was the reply. “But they didn’t build any statues to me as they did to St. George, when he slew the dragon, and no one gave me a triumph, as the people of Rome did to Regulus over his combat with a monster.” “I never heard of the Regulus story,” Perry said. “It wasn’t a story,” his father corrected him, “it was a real fight, like mine. Or at least it was said to be a real fight. Regulus sent home the skin of his dragon, and it was carried before him in his triumph.” “But I thought all those dragon fights were just fairy tales!” “Most of them are,” his father answered. “With the exception of mine, I think Regulus’ fight with the dragon is the only one that is supposed to be attested by history. Do you want to hear about it?” “I’d rather hear yours,” Perry replied. “I’ll come to that presently,” the merchant assured him, “and the story of Regulus may put you in the right frame of mind to hear about my prowess. “Marcus Atillius Regulus, almost the only historical character to have fought with a dragon,” he began, “bore one of the noblest names in Rome. You may have learned in school, Perry, how he ravaged the shores of Africa and brought Carthage into subjection, but that, at the last moment, he was defeated. As a prisoner, he was sent by Carthage on an embassy to make peace, upon his own honorable promise to return to his foes to die by torture unless his embassy of peace was successful. On arriving at Rome, Regulus gave the message with which he had been entrusted by the Carthaginians, but ended with a patriotic appeal to Rome not to let their affection and loyalty to him overtop their honor. “‘Let the prisoners be left to perish unheeded,’ he said, ‘let war go on till Carthage be subdued.’ His counsel prevailed, the offers of peace were refused, and Regulus returned voluntarily to Carthage. The Romans have enshrined the name of Regulus high in the pages of honor, but the Carthaginians had little understanding of valor and good faith. They cut off his eyelids, placed him in a barrel spiked with nails, knocked the head of the barrel out and fastened him there so that he was immovable. Even his hands were tied. Then they exposed him, naked, to the glare of an African sun, to die by the slow agonies of thirst, fever, the scorch of the sun upon the unprotected eyeballs, and the stinging insects of the desert.” “But Rome got back at them?”