“Tell Jake—” he corrected himself artfully. “Tell Mr. Benson that it's General Gibbs of Kansas;” and he was shown into the library; he had hardly seated himself when the street door opened again, and a moment later Benson hurried into the room.
“Why, Gibbs, what has brought you back?” he cried.
The general took him warmly by the hand.
“Jake, how are you!” he said. “I've fetched Stephen's boy home to Mrs. Landray,” he added, answering Benson's question.
“That was very sad about Landray,” observed the lawyer gravely.
“I don't know when I felt a death as I felt his,” rejoined Gibbs huskily, and his under lip quivered.
There was a brief silence in which the lawyer gave himself up to a critical scrutiny of his guest.
“What are you doing, Gibbs?” he asked abruptly.
“I? Oh, I'm trying to rub the creases out of a cocked hat,” answered the general lightly. “I am sort of resting on my laurels, Jake, waiting for the tide to turn.”
“It's good to have laurels to rest on,” said Benson. “Come into the dining-room and we will have something to eat and drink.”