“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.