“The boy doesn’t remember me,” said the gentleman, in quick tones, smiling at Mr. Brinsmade.

“Yes, sir, I do,” Stephen made haste to answer.  He glanced at the star on the shoulder strap, and said.  “You are General Sherman.”

“First rate!” laughed the General, patting him.  “First rate!”

“Now in command at Camp Benton, Stephen,” Mr. Brinsmade put in.  “Won’t you sit down, General?”

“No,” said the General, emphatically waving away the chair.  “No, rather stand.”  Then his keen face suddenly lighted with amusement,—­and mischief, Stephen thought.  “So you’ve heard of me since we met, sir?” “Yes, General.”

“Humph!  Guess you heard I was crazy,” said the General, in his downright way.

Stephen was struck dumb.

“He’s been reading the lies in the newspapers too, Brinsmade,” the General went on rapidly.  “I’ll make ’em eat their newspapers for saying I was crazy.  That’s the Secretary of War’s doings.  Ever tell you what Cameron did, Brinsmade?  He and his party were in Louisville last fall, when I was serving in Kentucky, and came to my room in the Galt House.  Well, we locked the door, and Miller sent us up a good lunch and wine, After lunch, the Secretary lay on my bed, and we talked things over.  He asked me what I thought about things in Kentucky.  I told him.  I got a map.  I said, ’Now, Mr. Secretary, here is the whole Union line from the Potomac to Kansas.  Here’s McClellan in the East with one hundred miles of front.  Here’s Fremont in the West with one hundred miles.  Here we are in Kentucky, in the centre, with three hundred miles to defend.  McClellan has a hundred thousand men, Fremont has sixty thousand.  You give us fellows with over three hundred miles only eighteen thousand.’  ’How many do you want?’ says Cameron, still on the bed.  ’Two hundred thousand before we get through,’ said I. Cameron pitched up his hands in the air.  ‘Great God?’ says he, ‘where are they to come from?’ ’The northwest is chuck full of regiments you fellows at Washington won’t accept,’ said I.  ’Mark my words, Mr. Secretary, you’ll need ’em all and more before we get done with this Rebellion.’  Well, sir, he was very friendly before we finished, and I thought the thing was all thrashed out.  No, sir! he goes back to Washington and gives it out that I’m crazy, and want two hundred thousand men in Kentucky.  Then I am ordered to report to Halleck in Missouri here, and he calls me back from Sedalia because he believes the lies.”

Stephen, who had in truth read the stories in question a month or two before, could not conceal his embarrassment He looked at the man in front of him,—­alert, masterful intelligent, frank to any stranger who took his fancy,—­and wondered how any one who had talked to him could believe them.

Mr. Brinsmade smiled.  “They have to print something, General,” he said.