Leslies had called at the de Laneys', and, as Bert said, had dined
there once. They recognised their status, and rejoiced therein.

"He is calling on the minister," explained Jeems for him. "Bennington,
my son, you'll get caught at that some day, as sure as shooting. If
your mamma ever found out that, instead of talking society-religion to
old Garnett, you were revelling in this awful dissipation, you'd have
to go abroad again."

"What did you call him?" inquired Bert.

"Call who?"

"Him--Bennie--what was that full name?"

"Bennington."

"Great Scott! and here I've been thinking all the time he was plain
Benjamin! Tell us about it, my boy. What is it? It sounds like a battle
of the Revolution. _Is_ it a battle of the Revolution? Just to think
that all this time we have been entertaining unawares a real live
battle!"

De Laney grinned, half-embarrassed as usual.

"It's a family name," said he. "It's the name of an ancestor."

He never knew whether or not these vivacious youths really desired the
varied information they demanded.

The Leslies looked upon him with awe.

"You don't mean to tell me," said Bertie, "that you are a Bennington!
Well, well! This is a small world! We will celebrate the discovery." He
walked to the door and touched a bell five times. "Beautiful system,"
he explained. "In a moment Karl will appear with five beers. This
arrangement is possible because never, in any circumstances, do we ring
for anything but beer."

The beer came. Two steins, two glasses, and a carefully scrubbed
shaving mug were pressed into service. After the excitement of finding
all these things had died, and the five men were grouped about the
place in ungraceful but comfortable attitudes, Bennington bid for the
sympathy he had sought in this visit.

"Fellows," said he, "I've something to tell you."

"Let her flicker," said Jim.

"I'm going away next week. It's all settled."

"Bar Harbour, Trouville, Paris, or Berlin?"

"None of them. I'm going West."

"Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, San Diego, or Monterey?"

"None of them. I'm going to the real West. I'm going to a mining camp."

The Leslies straightened their backbones.

"Don't spring things on us that way," reproved Bertie severely; "you'll
give us heart disease. Now repeat softly."

"I am going to a mining camp," obeyed Bennington, a little
shamefacedly.

"With whom?"

"Alone."

This time the Leslies sprang quite to their feet.

"By the Great