first sentence of Philip's account. During the process of mastering the details that came after it he fairly reveled in such a story as it unfolded. He could hardly be kept from calling Joe and all Knoxport to draw near and partake of such a feast.
"I do, I do congratulate you with all my heart!" he declared over and over. "Your escape has been a miracle. And to think they have been mourning and lamenting and giving you both quite up," he continued. "But the mourning is nothing to make light of when it's a father's for his son, or such a kind of grief as Mr. Marcy's. I'm glad I didn't say more before that little fellow. Never did I see a man so cut to the heart in all my life as his father. Marcy had to keep with him every minute of the little time they were in town."
"The thing is, then, to get word to them both just as soon as can be. Unless they went straight back to town or to the Ossokosee—"
"Somehow I doubt if they did. I think I heard to the contrary. We'll wire at once. Will you stay here with young Saxton till you get answers to your telegrams?"
"I guess that's the best thing for us."
