“Was it though! Well, I guess we can consider this rumpus at an end; I understand General Grant and General Lee are going to get together and see what can be done to stop the effusion of blood. I hope Grant will be in a complaisant mood, there's never any harm in making it easy for the other fellow to quit.” He paused, and looked the young man over attentively. “Ah—Ohio regiment! An Ohio man yourself, captain?” interrogated the general beaming blandly upon him. “Yes, born there, and lived there until I enlisted,” answered Stephen. “What part of the state do you come from?” inquired the general after another brief pause. “The central part of the state, a little place called Benson.” “Benson—the devil!” cried his questioner, starting. “I lived there myself once—owned a paper there, in fact.” “Did you indeed?” said Stephen. “Yes, sir, I did, and I had a pretty wide acquaintance. Dabbled a bit in politics, too, and knew everybody in the town, and pretty near everybody in the county—what's your name, sir?” “Landray, Stephen Landray.” “Landray?” cried the other. “Why, God bless my soul, young man, I knew your father well—we were the same as brothers, for I take it you're Bushrod Landray's son—yes, of course you're Bush-rod Landray's son, for Stephen had no children.” “Yes, my father was Bushrod Landray,” said Stephen; he wondered who the stranger might be. “He was one of my most intimate friends, a man I admired immensely. I'm pleased to know you;” and he held out his hand. His delight seemed unbounded, for he wrung Stephen's hand with a hearty good-will. “Well, it is a small world, ain't it? And to think I should meet you here after all these years! Eh, you want to know who I am? Gibbs is my name— General Gibbs of Missouri, formerly of Lyon's staff.” It rolled sonorously from his lips. “I have heard of you, General Gibbs,” said Stephen. “I bet you have!” said the general chuckling. “I mean they have not forgotten you at Benson,” Stephen made haste to say. He was rather embarrassed, however, for he was aware that he had never heard anything of this old friend of his father's that was in any sense creditable; indeed he had not known until that moment that he had been a friend of his father's—but Gibbs himself seemed very sure of that point. “Of course they ain't!” still chuckling and unabashed. “I usually manage to make myself felt in one way or another—ain't always the best way perhaps, but it's usually warranted to last. Tell me about everybody—your own folks—I love any man by the name of Landray!” “I've not been home in two years,” said Stephen. “How's your mother?” “Didn't you know—but of course you couldn't, she is dead.” “God bless my soul, you don't tell me! I'm shocked to hear it,” cried Gibbs. “Inexpressibly shocked to hear it, when did it happen?” “Years ago, she died out in India. She had married again, and had gone there with her husband who was a missionary.”