It was but a few days after his return that Calhoun was with a regiment reconnoitring near Braddyville, when they were suddenly attacked by a whole brigade of Federal cavalry. The engagement was a spirited one, but owing to the superior numbers of the Federals, the Confederates were forced to fall back. During the retreat Calhoun with his scouts was holding back the advance of the enemy. They were furiously charged by two companies of the Federals, and a hand-to-hand conflict took place. During this combat Calhoun became engaged with a Federal captain, and to his surprise he saw that his antagonist was Captain Haines. The recognition was mutual, and it must have unnerved the hand of the Captain, for although but a few feet from Calhoun, he fired and missed him. Before he could fire again, Calhoun dashed his empty revolver into his face. The force of the blow caused him to reel in his saddle, and before he could recover, Calhoun had cut him down. The bloody repulse of these two companies cooled the ardor of the Federals, and the Confederates withdrew without further molestation. Major Conway noted Calhoun’s growing popularity with the command, and his hatred, if possible, grew more bitter. The sting of the blow he had received still rankled in his heart, and he swore sooner or later to have his revenge. His attempts to assassinate Calhoun in time of battle, so far had failed, and Calhoun’s extreme wariness now usually kept them apart during an engagement. The crafty Major was busily thinking of some other scheme by which he could kill Calhoun without bringing suspicion on himself, when an incident happened which he thought would not only cause Calhoun to die a most disgraceful death, but redound greatly to his own credit. Calhoun was out with his scouts when he fell in with a small party of the enemy. As he outnumbered them, he thought their capture was easy. But he was met with such a rapid and accurate fire that his men were forced to fall back. “Them Yankees have repeating rifles,” growled one of his men, “and they know how to shoot.” This was true, and Calhoun was thinking of withdrawing from the fight entirely, when he caught sight of the leader of the Federals. The horse which he rode he would know among ten thousand. It was Prince, the famous horse of his cousin, and the rider must be Fred. Ordering his men to cease firing, Calhoun tied a white handkerchief to the point of his sword, and rode forward. Fred, for it was he, rode out to meet him. As soon as he came within hearing distance, he asked, “Do you surrender?” “Surrender nothing!” answered Calhoun, a little disgusted. “If you only knew how many men I had back there you would think of surrendering yourself. I simply came out to have a little talk with you.” “Cal, as sure as I live!” exclaimed Fred, and in a moment the two cousins had each other by the hand, forgetting they were enemies, remembering only their love for each other.