tions and left him there to die like a dog in
a ditch. So the story ran all through the tenement district, and in an
incredibly swift time the worst elements in Milton were surging toward
Mr. Winter's house with murder in their hearts, and the means of
accomplishing it in their hands.

Mr. Winter had finished his work at the office and gone home to sit down
to a late lunch, as his custom was, when he was interrupted by the mob.
The rest of the incident is connected with what has been told. The crowd
seized him with little ceremony, and it was only Philip's timely arrival
and his saving of minutes until the police arrived, that prevented a
lynching in Milton that night. As it was, Mr. Winter received a scare
from which it took a long time to recover. He dreaded to go out alone at
night. He kept on guard a special watchman, and lived in more or less
terror even then. It was satisfactorily proved in a few days that the
man who had gone to see Mr. Winter had never reached the office door.
But, coming around the corner of the building where the new work was
being done, he had fallen off the stone work, striking on a rock in such
a way as to produce a fatal wound. This tempered the feeling of the
workmen toward Mr. Winter; but a wide-spread unrest and discontent had
seized on every man employed in the mills, and as the winter drew on,
affairs reached a crisis.

The difference between the mills and the men over the scale of wages
could not be settled. The men began to talk about a strike. Philip heard
of it, and at once, with his usual frankness and boldness, spoke with
downright plainness to the men against it. That was at the little hall a
week after the attempt on Mr. Winter's life. Philip's part in that
night's event had added to his reputation and his popularity with the
men. They admired his courage and his grit. Most of them were ashamed of
the whole affair, especially after they had sobered down and it had been
proved that Mr. Winter had not touched the man. So Philip was welcomed
with applause as he came out on the little platform and looked over the
crowded room, seeing many faces there that had glared at him in the mob
a week before. And yet his heart told him he loved these men, and his
reason told him that it was the sinner and the unconverted that God
loved. It was a terrible responsibility to have such men count him
popular, and he prayed that wisdom might be given him in the approaching
crisis, especially as h