d.

What was the surprise of every one in Milton, therefore, the very next
day, when it was announced that every mill in the great system had shut
down, and not a man of the fifteen thousand laborers who marched to the
buildings in the early gray of the winter morning found entrance.
Statements were posted up on the doors that the mills were shut down
until further notice. The mill-owners had stolen a march on the
employees, and the big strike was on; but it had been started by
Capital, not by Labor, and Labor went to its tenement or congregated in
the saloon, sullen and gloomy; and, as days went by and the mills showed
no signs of opening, the great army of the unemployed walked the
streets of Milton in growing discontent and fast accumulating debt and
poverty.

Meanwhile the trial of the man arrested for shooting Philip came on, and
Philip and his wife both appeared as witnesses in the case. The man was
convicted and sentenced to fifteen years' imprisonment. It has nothing
special to do with the history of Philip Strong, but may be of interest
to the reader to know that in two years' time he was pardoned out and
returned to Milton to open his old saloon, where he actually told more
than once the story of his attempt on the preacher's life.

There came also during those stormy times in Milton the trial of several
of the men who were arrested for the assault on Mr. Winter. Philip was
also summoned as a witness in these cases. As always, he frankly
testified to what he knew and saw. Several of the accused were
convicted, and sentenced to short terms. But the mill-owner, probably
fearing revenge on the part of the men, did not push the matter, and
most of the cases went by default for lack of prosecution.

Mr. Winter's manner toward Philip underwent a change after that
memorable evening when the minister stood by him at the peril of his own
life. There was a feeling of genuine respect, mingled with fear, in his
deportment toward Philip. To say that they were warm friends would be
saying too much. Men as widely different as the minister and the wealthy
mill-man do not come together on that sacred ground of friendship, even
when one is indebted to the other for his life. A man may save another
from hanging and still be unable to save him from selfishness. And Mr.
Winter went his way and Philip went his, on a different basis so far as
common greeting went, but no nearer in the real thing, which makes
heart-to-heart commu