he's a general."

The recollection of the scene in the street by the Arsenal that May
morning not a year gone came to Stephen with a shock.

"I saw him," he cried; "he was Captain Grant that lived on the Gravois
Road. But surely this can't be the same man who seized Paducah and was in
that affair at Belmont."

"By gum!" said the General, laughing. "Don't wonder you're surprised.
Grant has stuff in him. They kicked him around Springfield awhile, after
the war broke out, for a military carpet-bagger. Then they gave him for a
regiment the worst lot of ruffians you ever laid eyes on. He fixed 'em.
He made 'em walk the plank. He made 'em march halfway across the state
instead of taking the cars the Governor offered. Belmont! I guess he is
the man that chased the Rebs out of Belmont. Then his boys broke loose
when they got into the town. That wasn't Grant's fault. The Rebs came
back and chased 'em out into their boats on the river. Brinsmade, you
remember hearing about that.

"Grant did the coolest thing you ever saw. He sat on his horse at the top
of the bluff while the boys fell over each other trying to get on the
boat. Yes, sir, he sat there, disgusted, on his horse, smoking a cigar,
with the Rebs raising pandemonium all around him. And then, sir," cried
the General, excitedly, "what do you think he did? Hanged if he didn't
force his horse right on to his haunches, slide down the whole length of
the bank and ride him across a teetering plank on to the steamer. And the
Rebs just stood on the bank and stared. They were so astonished they
didn't even shoot the man. You watch Grant," said the General. "And now,
Stephen," he added, "just you run off and take hold of the prettiest girl