surgeon that he might possibly get out a little over three weeks
satisfied him. Sunday came and passed. Some one from a neighboring town
who happened to be visiting in Milton occupied the pulpit, and Philip
had a quiet, restful day. He started in the week determined to beat the
doctor's time for recovery; and, having a remarkably strong constitution
and a tremendous will, he bade fair to be limping about the house in two
weeks. His shoulder wound healed very fast. His knee bothered him, and
it seemed likely that he would go lame for a long time. But he was not
concerned about that if only he could go about in any sort of fashion
once more.

Wednesday of that week he was surprised by an unexpected manner by an
event which did more than anything else to hasten his recovery. He was
still confined to bed downstairs when in the afternoon the bell rang,
and Mrs. Strong went to the door supposing it was one of the church
people come to inquire about the minister. She found instead Alfred
Burke, Philip's old college chum and Seminary classmate. Mrs. Strong
welcomed him heartily, and in answer to his eager inquiry concerning
Philip's condition she brought him into the room, knowing her patient
quite well and feeling sure the sight of his old chum would do him more
good than harm. The first thing Alfred said was:

"Old man, I hardly expected to see you again this side of heaven. How
does it happen that you are alive here after all the times the papers
have had you killed?"

"Bad marksmanship, principally. I used to think I was a big man. But
after the shooting I came to the conclusion that I must be rather
small."