The Senator started toward the hotel desk to ask regarding the whereabouts of his son Randolph, when his attention was caught by the sight of three powerful negro porters endeavoring to thrust outdoors a threadbare old man.  The victim’s flowing white hair, white mustache and military bearing received short shrift.

“Come along, Colonel!  Yo’ can’t sit heah all day.  Them chairs is for the guests in the hotel,” the head porter was urging as he jerked the old man toward the door.

The Mississippian’s fighting blood was instantly aroused at such treatment of a respectable old white man by negroes.  His lips tightly compressed as he hurried to the rescue.  He cried sharply: 

“Take your hands off that gentleman!  What do you mean by touching a friend of mine?”

The negroes stepped back amazed.

“’Scuse me, Senator, is this gent’man a friend of yours?” the head porter gasped apologetically.

Langdon looked at him.

“You heard what I said,” he drawled in the slow way natural to some men of the South when trouble threatens.  “I’d like to have you down in Mississippi for about ten minutes.”

The head porter turned quickly on his assistants and drove them away, shouting at the top of his voice: 

“Get about yo’ wuk.  How dare yo’ intehfere wid a friend of de Senator’s?  I’ll teach yo’ to be putting yoh nose in where it ain’t got no business.”

The old man, astonished at the turn of events, came forward hesitatingly to Langdon.

“I’m very much obliged to you, sir,” he said.  “I’m Colonel Stoneman, an old soldier.”

The Mississippian stretched forth his hand.

“My name is Langdon, sir—­Senator Langdon of Mississippi.  I am an old soldier, too.”

“Delighted, Senator,” exclaimed the seedy-looking old man, taking the offered hand gratefully.

Langdon’s easy method of making friends was well illustrated as he clapped his new companion on the back.  Everybody he met was the Mississippian’s friend until he had proved himself the contrary.  That had been his rule through life.

“Come right over, Colonel; have a cigar, sir.”  Then, as they lighted their cigars, he inquired, “What army corps were you with, Colonel?”

“I was under Grant along the Tennessee,” replied the old G.A.R. man.

Familiarity with a Senator was something new for him, and already he was straightening up and becoming more of a man every moment.  Langdon was thoroughly interested.

“I was along the Tennessee under Beauregard,” he said.

“Great generals, sir!  Great generals!” exclaimed Colonel Stoneman.

“And great fighting, I reckon!” echoed the Confederate.  “You remember the battle of Crawfordsville?”

The old Federal smiled with joyous recollection.

“Do I?  Well, I should say I did!  Were you there, Senator?”

“Was I there?  Why, I remember every shot that was fired.  I was under Kirby, who turned your left wing.”