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 be poetic justice in setting up my establishment in a fallen slaveholder's mansion."

The doctor looked intently at the old man:

"The study of men has become a sort of passion with me, but you are the deepest mystery I've yet encountered in this land of surprises."

"And why?" asked the cynic.

"Because the secret of personality resides in motives, and I can't find yours either in your actions or words."

Stoneman glanced at him sharply from beneath his wrinkled brows and snapped.

"Keep on guessing."

"I will. In the meantime I'm going to send you to the village of Piedmont, South Carolina. Your son and daughter both seem enthusiastic over this spot."

"Good; that settles it. And now that mine own have been conspiring against me," said Stoneman, confidentially, "a little guile on my part. Not a word of what has passed between us to my children. Tell them I agree with your plans and give up my work. I'll give the same story to the press—I wish nothing to mar their happiness while in the South. My secret burdens need not cloud their young lives."

Dr. Barnes took the old man by the hand:

"I promise. My assistant has agreed to go with you. I'll say good-bye. It's an inspiration to look into a face like yours, lit by the splendour of an unconquerable will! But I want to say something to you before you set out on this journey."

"Out with it," said the Commoner.