After the usual breakfast hour next morning, the Sheriff availed himself of the earliest opportunity to resume his travel toward Augusta. On his way, some ten or fifteen miles distant from where he that morning started, to his great surprise, he suddenly came in contact with Shoemake and his colleague. They were seated within a one-horse buggy, with another very fine animal fastened to it, and with saddle and other necessaries ready for the rider in case any emergency might occur. They all met together on the top of a little hill, quite steep, with such other circumstances attending as obstructed sight until in quite close contact. The place of meeting was not more than fifty paces from an occupied dwelling house. This fact was, no doubt, the main cause of preventing them from making, perhaps, a fatal attack. The meeting was as of perfect strangers, though, in reality, each side knew the other again. The Sheriff well knew Shoemake, and, from his uneasy countenance, as well as the countenance of the other with him, the Sheriff was satisfied that they knew him. He having passed, as he thought, a sufficient distance beyond their view, he increased the speed of his horse to a rate of about eight or nine miles an hour for the remainder of the day, which carried him some fifty miles or more from the spot of meeting. He was fully impressed with the idea, at the time of meeting, that they were in pursuit of him for evil and dangerous purposes, which idea was fully confirmed by information gathered that day on travel as to their very suspicious conduct at different points of progress; however, in his heart, he was thankful that he had so far made his escape. His rapid travel onwards for that day was lonely indeed—passing through a wild, desolate region of country, but very sparsely populated—for miles not a human being to be seen; stock in abundance on either side of the road, with here and there frightened deer at seeing him, as it were, flying through space for safety and repose. Night fast coming on, with exhausted fatigue from excessive exercise, and beginning to despair of reaching home that night, he resolved on going to the house of a well-known friend, J. T. Breeland, situated a distance from the highway, and had to be approached with the convenience of a by-path. He succeeded in reaching this house in time for late supper. Here he met with all the accommodations that heart could desire. Luxuries plenty, conversation agreeable, with a welcomeness which must ever be appreciated, and more than this, consolation afforded when most needed. The next was retirement for sleep, but little of sound repose was enjoyed; the ghastly scenes of the clan were before his eyes, with struggles for existence betwixt him and his pursuers.