Philip, however, felt more full of fight against the rum-devil than ever.  As he lay on the bed the morning after, the shooting he had nothing to regret or fear.  The surgeon had been called at once, as soon as his wife and the alarmed neighbors had been able to carry him into the parsonage.  The ball had been removed and the wounds dressed.  By noon he had recovered somewhat from the effects of the operation and was resting, although very weak from the shock and suffering considerable pain.

“What is that stain on the floor, Sarah?” he asked as his wife came in with some article for his comfort.  Philip lay where he could see into the other room.

“It is your blood, Philip,” replied his wife, with a shudder.  “It dripped like a stream from your shoulder as we carried you in last night.  O Philip, it is dreadful!  It seems to me like an awful nightmare.  Let us move away from this terrible place.  You will be killed if we stay here!”

“There isn’t much danger if the rest of ’em are as poor shots as this fellow,” replied Philip.  “Now, little woman,” he went on cheerfully, “don’t worry.  I don’t believe they’ll try it again.”

Mrs. Strong controlled herself.  She did not want to break down while Philip was in his present condition.

“You must not talk,” she said as she smoothed his hair back from the pale forehead.

“That’s pretty hard on a preacher, don’t you think, Sarah?  My occupation is gone if I can’t talk.”

“Then I’ll talk for two.  They say that most women can do that.”

“Will you preach for me next Sunday?”

“What, and make myself a target for saloon-keepers?  No, thank you.  I have half a mind to forbid you ever preaching again.  It will be the death of you.”

“It is the life of me, Sarah.  I would not ask anything better than to die with the armor on, fighting evil.  Well, all right.  I won’t talk any more.  I suppose there’s no objection to my thinking a little?”

“Thinking is the worst thing you can do.  You just want to lie there and do nothing but get well.”

“All right.  I’ll quit everything except eating and sleeping.  Put up a little placard on the head of the bed saying, ’Biggest curiosity in Milton!  A live minister who has stopped thinking and talking!  Admission ten cents.  Proceeds to be devoted to teach saloon-keepers how to shoot straight.’” Philip was still somewhat under the influence of the doctor’s anaesthetic, and as he faintly murmured this absurd sentence he fell into a slumber which lasted several hours, from which he awoke very feeble, and realizing that he would be confined to the house some time, but feeling in good spirits and thankful out of the depths of his vigorous nature that he was still spared to do God’s will on earth.

The next day he felt strong enough to receive a few visitors.  Among them was the chief of police, who came to inquire concerning the identity of the man who had done the shooting.  Philip showed some reluctance to witness against his enemy.  It was only when he remembered that he owed a duty to society as well as to himself that he described the man and related minutely the entire affair exactly as it occurred.