and one of the men, the best friend I had, said something that made
me mad. There was a revolver right there which one of the men had
been showing us. Some kind of a demon got hold of me, and without so
much as a thought I picked up that revolver and fired at my friend."

The party manager gave way to an exclamation of horror, and the
superintendent half rose from his seat. But before any one could say
a word Philip Grayson continued, looking at the half-frightened
faces before him: "I suppose you wonder why I am not in the
penitentiary. I had been drinking, and I missed my aim; and I was
with friends, and it was hushed up."

He rested his hand upon the table, and looked out at the sullen
landscape. His voice was not steady as he went on: "It's not an easy
thing to talk about, boys. I never talked about it to any one before
in all my life. I'm not telling it now just to entertain you or to
create a sensation. I'm telling it," his voice grew tense in its
earnestness, "because I believe that this world could be made a
better and a sweeter place if those who have lived and suffered
would not be afraid to reach out their hands and cry: 'I know that
road--it's bad! I steered off to a better place, and I'll help you
steer off, too.'"

There was not one of the three hundred pairs of eyes but was riveted
upon the speaker's colourless face. The masks of sullenness and
defiance had fallen from them. They were listening now--not because
they must, but because into their hungry and thirsty souls was being
poured the very sustenance for which--unknowingly--they had yearned.

"We sometimes hear people say," resumed the candidate for Governor,