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Bennet was just exclaiming, "My, Doctor, but you raved.—Talk about my holding my tongue"—when there was a tap at the door and to their invitation to enter the door opened and a benign white haired, dignified man in clergyman's attire stepped into the room. He held out a hand as he said:

"I don't know your name but I want to thank you for the talk you gave. It was courageous."

Dr. Tansey accepted the extended hand with: "Dr. Tansey's my name and this is my friend Mr. Bennet."

"Glad to know you, Doctor—and Mr. Bennet. My name is Buntin, Windsor Buntin—I've an Episcopal parish up country away.—I've been trying to make these people see the error of their ways but have had no success. They simply ignore my preaching and my church. You've no idea how bitter they are."

"Never mind that, Father, your work will show some day.—I should not have spoken so but couldn't help myself. I witnessed a sight today that coupled with others I've seen made by blood boil. I wonder the colored people don't rise up in rebellion. And yet they're a docile people, so spiritual that they prefer to have patience."

Father Buntin, turned to go then wheeled again, extending his hand, saying: "Your words have given me new courage; new hope. I shall work on. Thank you, good night." A strong grip gave mutual courage as the two