The discussion became so hot, they came nearly fighting among themselves. At last one of them said, “I am tired of the hull business. I am goin’ home.” “An’ I!” “An’ I!” cried a dozen voices. It was finally agreed that the gang should disband, only five agreeing to remain with Red Bill. Being allowed to keep the plunder and horses they had captured, these men, with Red Bill, promised to deliver Calhoun and Nevels to the Federal authorities at Frankfort, unharmed. Calhoun and Nevels had watched this quarrel among their captors with the utmost anxiety, knowing that upon the result depended their lives. It was with the deepest concern that they beheld the members of the party depart, leaving them with Red Bill and his five boon companions. No sooner were they alone than the six, with oaths and jeers, tied their prisoners securely to trees, drawing the cords so closely that they cut into the flesh. Although the pain was terrible, neither Calhoun nor Nevels uttered a moan. After the prisoners were thus securely tied, Red Bill produced a bottle of whisky, and the six commenced drinking, apparently taking no notice of their captives. The whole six were soon fiendishly drunk. Staggering up to Calhoun, Red Bill growled: “Think we-uns goin’ to take you to Frankfort, I reckin’.” “That is what you promised,” replied Calhoun, calmly. “Well, we-uns ain’t. We-uns goin’ to hang ye!” Calhoun turned pale, then controlling himself by a powerful effort, he replied: “Do the Home Guards of Kentucky violate every principle of honorable warfare?” “Damn honorable warfare! Yo-uns called me a chicken-thief; I call you a hoss-thief. Hoss-thieves air hanged. Ha! ha! the son of Judge Pennington strung up fo’ stealin’ hosses! Won’t that sound nice?” and he burst into a devilish laugh, in which he was joined by the others. Calhoun saw there was no hope. It was hard to die such an ignominious death. “Oh!” he thought, “if I had only been permitted to die amid the flame and smoke of battle. Such a death is glorious; but this——” A great lump arose in his throat, and came near choking him. Gulping it back, he whispered to Nevels: “Don’t show the white feather. Let them see how Morgan’s men can die.” The brave fellow nodded; he could not speak. He had a wife and child at home. They were unbound from the tree, but their arms and limbs were kept tightly pinioned. Ropes were brought and tied around their necks, and the free ends thrown over a limb of the tree. “Can ye tie a true hangman’s knot, Jack?” asked Red of the villain who was adjusting the rope around Calhoun’s neck. “That I can, Red,” he answered, with a chuckling laugh. “It’s as neat a job as eny sheriff can do.” The sun had just sunk to rest; the gloom of night was settling over the forest. Calhoun saw the shadows thicken among the trees. The darkness of death would soon be upon him. “String ’em up!” shouted Red.