“Thee had better be leaving these parts, gentlemen,” said the honest Quaker, to whom the appeal was made. “If thee knows when thee is well off, for thy errand is understood, and thee will have the Coppocs and the Bonsalls down on thee in an hour, and I could not assure thy lives for a moment when they come.” There was no parley, but two horses were headed southward, and none too soon, for in a short time half a dozen young men armed to the teeth, rode up and inquired for the strangers. When informed of their departure they started in pursuit. Then began one of the most exciting races ever witnessed in Columbian county. The pursued had smelled mischief in the air, and away they flew, and after them the pursuers, dashing over hill and across valley, occasionally catching glimpses of each other, until the whole distance to the Ohio was passed. Reaching Gardiner’s Ferry, at East Liverpool, the Southerners put their jaded horses aboard the boat and were soon on the sacred soil of Virginia. When Gardiner returned the other party was in waiting, but reluctantly took his advice to remain on the soil of their native state. IV. All apprehension of immediate danger removed, Ed., who, by the advice of Coppoc, assumed the name “Sam,” remained quietly at Mr. Pennock’s for some time, in fact, made it his headquarters for the winter, working for his board and doing odd jobs, from the proceeds of which he purchased some clothes and a long smooth-bore rifle, of which he was passionately fond, and with which he practiced much, often repeating, “I shall put a hole through the man suah, who comes to claim that ’wa’d,” for the whole region from the river to the lake had been flooded with bills minutely describing him and offering $500 for his apprehension. When spring fairly opened he made up his mind to seek the Queen’s Dominion as rapidly as possible, and accordingly packed his few effects in a bandana, threw “’Tection,” as he called his smooth-bore, across his shoulder, and proceeded cautiously northward. Arriving at Warren, he sought the home of a colored family that had been pointed out to him as a safe retreat. Approaching the door, he heard a number of voices, which he recognized by the melody as being of his kind, singing with great gusto: “Matthew’s saint Without putty or paint, And Joel’s a prophet, we know it; Whatever they say Don’t refuse to obey, But shut up your eyes and go it,” words perpetrated by one John Morley on two distinguished local politicians of the Democratic persuasion of the period of ’56, and very popular as part of a campaign song.