We will now turn to Calhoun. After he was captured and heard his men cheering as they made the charge, his heart stood still, for he expected they would all be killed. He was, therefore, greatly surprised when the firing ceased, and his captors came running back, and hurried him through the woods at a break-neck speed. The rapid pace was kept up for about three miles, when finding they were not pursued, they adopted a more leisurely gait. Of this Calhoun was glad, for he was entirely out of breath. The leader of the gang, and another, probably the second in command, had appropriated the horses, and Calhoun and Nevels had been forced to walk, or rather run. Once Calhoun ventured to ask the result of the fight, and was told that all of his men had been killed. This he knew to be a lie, as his captors would not have retreated so hastily if they had achieved so sweeping a victory. He asked another question, but was roughly told to shut up. When the rendezvous was reached Red Bill for the first time noticed his prisoners closely. He started when he saw Calhoun, and then turning to his gang, said, “I reckon we had better string these fellows up, and get them out of the way.” “String us up,” boldly answered Calhoun, “and I would not give a cent for your worthless lives; Morgan would never rest, as long as one of you encumbered the earth.” “Who is afraid of Morgan!” exclaimed Red Bill, with an oath. “He and the rest of you are nuthin’ but hoss-thieves an’ yo’ will all hang one of these days. I know yo’, my young rooster, you air the son of that ole Rebil, Judge Pennington of Danville. I hev it in fur him.” “And I know you now,” hotly replied Calhoun, forgetting the danger he was in. “You used to live in Danville, and went by the name of Red Bill. Your popularity consisted in the fact that you were known as an adept chicken-thief. My father once sent you to jail for petit larceny.” Bill’s face grew still redder. “Yo’ lie, yo’ dog!” he hissed. “Yo’ father did send me to jail, but I war innocent, an’ he knowed it. But he thought I war only po’ white trash, while he is an aristocrat. I swore to hev my revenge, an’ I will hev it. Boys, what do we-uns do with hoss-thieves in ole Kentuck?” “Hang ’em,” exclaimed four or five voices. “An’ we-uns will hang this crowin’ bantam. I will learn him to call me a chicken-thief, classin’ me with niggers!” exclaimed Red Bill, with fury. “What will we-uns do with the other feller?” asked one of the men. “Hang him too. Dead men don’t talk.” But some of the gang began to demur over this summary proceeding, saying that the Federal authorities would deal severely with them if it became known they murdered prisoners in cold blood. Not only this, but Morgan had captured hundreds of Home Guards and paroled them. But if they should execute one of his prominent officers, he would show no mercy.