re
he was going.

"It's not far. I shall be back in about half an hour, Sarah."

He went out, and his wife held the door open until he was down the
steps. She was just on the point of shutting the door as he started down
the sidewalk when a sharp report rang out close by. She screamed and
flung the door open again, as by the light of the street lamp she saw
Philip stagger and then leap into the street toward an elm-tree which
grew almost opposite the parsonage. When he was about in the middle of
the street she was horrified to see a man step out boldly from behind
the tree, raise a gun, and deliberately fire at Philip again. This time
Philip fell and did not rise. His tall form lay where the rays of the
street lamp shone on it and he had fallen so that as his arms stretched
out there he made the figure of a huge and prostrate cross.

CHAPTER V.

As people waked up in Milton the Wednesday morning after the shooting of
Philip Strong they grew conscious of the fact, as the news came to their
knowledge, that they had been nursing for fifty years one of the most
brutal and cowardly institutions on earth, and licensing it to do the
very thing which at last it had done. For the time being Milton suffered
a genuine shock. Long pent-up feeling against the whisky power burst
out, and public sentiment for once condemned the source of the cowardly
attempt to murder.

Various rumors were flying about. It was said that Mr. Strong had been
stabbed in the back while out making parish calls in company with his
wife, and that she had been wounded by a pistol-shot herself. It was
also said that he had been shot through the heart and instantly killed.
But all these confused reports were finally set at rest when those
calling at the parsonage brought away the exact truth.

The first shot fired by the man from behind the tree struck Philip in
the knee, but the ball glanced off. He felt the blow and staggered, but
his next impulse was to rush in the direction of the sound and disarm
his assailant. That was the reason he had leaped into the street. But
the second shot was better aimed and the bullet crashed into his upper
arm and shoulder, shattering the bone and producing an exceedingly
painful though not fatal wound.

The shock caused Philip to fall, and he fainted away, but not before the
face of the man who had shot him was clearly stamped on his mind. He
knew that he was one of the saloon proprietors whose establishment
P