The 1:15 train from Columbus to Cincinnati was about to start. “All aboard,” shouted the conductor.

Two gentlemen sauntered into one of the cars, to all appearances the most unconcerned of individuals. They took different seats, the younger just behind the older. General Morgan and Calhoun had reached the train in safety; had purchased tickets, and taken their seats without exciting suspicion. A moment more and they would be on their way South.

A Federal major came hurrying in and seated himself beside Morgan, and the two entered into conversation. On the way out of the city the train had to pass close to the penitentiary. The major, pointing to the grim, dark pile, and thinking he might be imparting some information, said: “There is where they keep the notorious John Morgan.”

“May he always be kept as safe as he is now,” quickly replied the General.

“Oh! they will keep him safe enough,” said the major, complacently stroking his chin. The major better understood the Delphic answer of the General the next morning.

All went well until Dayton was reached, where [pg 304]by some accident the train was held over an hour. It was an anxious hour to Morgan and Calhoun. It meant that the train would be late in Cincinnati, that before they arrived there the Federal authorities of the city might be informed of the escape. It would never do for them to ride clear into the city. As the train slowed up as it entered the suburbs, the General and Calhoun both dropped off without being noticed.

Morgan being well acquainted with the city, they quickly made their way to a ferry, and by the time the escape had been discovered at the penitentiary, Morgan’s feet were pressing the soil of Kentucky. Calhoun’s heart thrilled as he once more breathed the air of his native state. He felt like a new being, yet he knew that it was hundreds of miles to safety. They must steal through the states of Kentucky and Tennessee like hunted beasts, for the enemy was everywhere. But friends there were, too—friends as true as steel. And hardly had they set foot in Kentucky before they found such a friend, one who took them in, fed them, and protected them. He gave them horses, and sent them on their way. Slowly they made their way through the state, travelling all night, sent from the house of one friend to that of another. At last they reached the Cumberland River near Burkesville, where they had crossed it at the beginning of their raid. To Calhoun it seemed that years had passed since then, so much had happened.

On entering Tennessee, their dangers thickened. [pg 305]They did not know friend from foe. On entering a house they did not know whether they would be protected or betrayed. The country was swarming with Federal cavalry. It was rumored that Morgan was in the country making his way south, and every officer was eager to add to his laurels by capturing him. In the mountains Morgan and Calhoun met a party of forty or fifty Confederates who were making their way to the Confederate lines. In the party were a number of Morgan’s old men, who hailed their chief with the wildest delight. Morgan assumed command of them. But few of the party were mounted, consequently their progress was slow and their dangers were augmented.

All went well until the Tennessee River was reached, a few miles below Kingston. The river was high and there was no means of crossing. A rude raft was constructed, and with the horses swimming, they commenced crossing. When about half were across a company of Federal cavalry appeared and attacked those who were still on the northern bank. On the frail raft, Morgan started to push across to their aid.

“Are you crazy, General,” cried Calhoun; “you can do no good, and will only be killed or captured. See, the men have scattered already, and are taking to the woods and mountains.”

It was true, and Morgan reluctantly rode away. He had the satisfaction afterwards of learning that most of the men escaped.

The next day was the last day that Calhoun [pg 306]ever rode with Morgan, but little did he realize it at the time. Along in the afternoon they became aware of the close proximity of a squadron of Federal cavalry. Morgan and those with him took shelter behind a thick growth of cedars, while Calhoun rode ahead to investigate. He discovered no enemy and was coming back when he ran squarely into the Federals. The foremost of them were not ten feet from Morgan, he still being screened from view by the cedars. Without hesitation, Calhoun cried, “This way, Major. Hurry up, they have gone this way,” pointing the way he had come.

The major took Calhoun for a guide, and giving the command, “Forward,” rode rapidly after Calhoun, and Morgan was saved. For half a mile they rode, when a stream was reached, and it was seen no horseman had crossed it. The major drew rein and turned to Calhoun in fury.

“You have deceived me, you dog!” he cried.

“Yes, I am one of Morgan’s men,” calmly replied Calhoun.

The anger of the major was terrible. He grew purple in the face. “Yes, and you have led me away from Morgan,” he hissed. “You will pay for this.”

Calhoun still remained calm. “That was not Morgan,” he said; “I ought to know Morgan, I have ridden with him for two years.”

“I know better,” roared the Major, thoroughly beside himself; “you are a lying scoundrel; I will fix you.”