“Fight? Of course they will fight,” was the answer. “Let Morgan get into the state, and you will see.” At Indianapolis Calhoun met with a wealthy farmer named Jones, who lived near Corydon. He had no words too severe to say of Lincoln, and boasted of the number of Knights in his part of the state. “We are going to sweep the Black Abolitionists from the earth,” he exclaimed, boastingly, “and hang Old Abe, and Morton too.” “What would you do if Morgan came?” asked Calhoun. “Do? I would throw my hat in the air and yell until I was hoarse,” was the answer. “What if Morgan should want some of your horses?” asked Calhoun. Mr. Jones’s countenance fell. At length he mumbled, “Of course he would pay me for them?” “Of course,” replied Calhoun, in a tone which the old gentleman did not quite understand. Just before Calhoun was ready to leave Indianapolis Bowman told him Morton was to hold a reception, and asked him if he would not like to attend and see the great War Governor. Nothing would suit Calhoun better. He had a desire to see the man of whom he had heard so much—a man who had the majority of his legislature against him, yet held the state as in the hollow of his hand—a man who borrowed hundreds of thousands of dollars in his own name, that the soldiers of his state might be thoroughly equipped. He had overcome every difficulty, and held his state firmly for the Union. Now, with thousands of the citizens of the state secretly plotting against him, he moved serenely along the path he had marked out. Urged to adopt the most severe measures, he knew when, and when not, to make an arrest. He avoided angering his enemies except when the public safety demanded it. His very name caused every member of the Knights of the Golden Circle to tremble. Little did Calhoun think that when he promised to attend the governor’s reception that Morton’s detectives were already looking for him. The renewed activity of the Knights had aroused the Governor’s suspicions, and he was not long in finding out the cause. To locate and arrest the Southern officer who was causing the ferment, was his order to his detectives. A large crowd attended the reception, and in such a gathering Calhoun felt in no danger. He saw in Morton a thickset, heavy man with a massive head and brain. He looked every inch the intellectual giant that he was. “The grandest figure,” thought Calhoun, “that I have seen in the North. He is a man to beware of. No wonder the Knights stand in fear of him.” When Calhoun, passing along in the throng, took the Governor’s hand, Morton bent his piercing look upon him, and the question came as if shot out of his mouth, “Where from, young man?” The suddenness of the question threw Calhoun off his guard, and almost involuntarily he answered, “From Kentucky.” “From Kentucky, eh! And how goes it down there?”