officer, wondering what Philip could want of him. "I ran him down in the
'crow's nest' below the mills, and we popped him into a hack and drove
right up here with him. And a pretty sweet specimen he is, I can tell
you! Take off your hat and let the gentleman have another look at the
brave chap who fired at him in ambush!"

The officer spoke almost brutally, forgetting for a moment that the
prisoner's hands were manacled; remembering it the next instant, he
pulled off the man's hat, while Philip looked calmly at the features.
Yes, it was the same hideous, brutal face, with the hare-lip, which had
shone up in the rays of the street-lamp that night; there was no
mistaking it for any other.

"Why did you want to kill me?" asked Philip, after a significant pause.
"I never did you any harm."

"I would like to kill all the cursed preachers," replied the man,
hoarsely.

"You confess, then, that you are the man who fired at me, do you?"

"I don't confess anything. What are you talking to me for? Take me to
the lock-up if you're going to!" the man exclaimed fiercely, turning to
the officer.

"Philip!" cried his wife, turning to him with a gesture of appeal, "send
them away. It will do no good to talk to this man."

Philip raised his hand in a gesture toward the man that made every one
in the room feel a little awed. The officer in speaking of it afterward