o other. Could it be he was
suspected? Forcing his way through the throng, he got out of the building
as soon as possible.

It was well that he did so, for hardly had the Governor let go Calhoun's
hand, when he motioned to General Carrington, and whispered to him:
"Arrest that young man. Do it as quietly as possible, but see he does not
get away. He is the Southern officer we have been looking for, I am sure.
I have a full description of him."

General Carrington in turn whispered to a couple of quiet-looking men,
dressed in citizen's clothes who stood near the Governor. They nodded, and
started after Calhoun, who was now nearly lost to view in the crowd.

Once out of the building Calhoun found that hundreds of spectators had
gathered out of curiosity. They were hurrahing for Lincoln and Morton, and
shouting for the Union, and some were singing, "We'll hang Jeff Davis on a
sour-apple tree."

Rapidly pushing his way through this mob, he reached the outer edge of the
circle. Here groups of men were standing, but they were not hurrahing.
Instead, their looks were dark and surly, and it was plain they were not
enjoying the proceedings. Just as Calhoun reached these groups, a heavy
hand was laid on his shoulder, and a stern low voice said: "You are our
prisoner; better come quietly and make no disturbance." And in a trice
Calhoun felt each of his arms grasped by strong hands. He was powerless in
the iron grip by which he was held; if help there was, it must come from
the outside.

"Oho ne! Oho ne! Oho ne!"

The despairing cry cleft the night air like a knife. It fell on the
astonished ears of hundreds who did not understand it. But to those groups
of silent, sullen-browed men it came as the call of a trumpet, summoning
them to duty.

"Oho ne! Oho ne!" they answered, and before the surprised officers could
draw a weapon, could raise a hand to defend themselves, they were beaten
down, and their prisoner snatched from them.

The alarm was raised, and a company of soldiers came on the run, with
fixed bayonets, scattering the crowd right and left. But when they reached
the spot they found only a couple of half-dazed and bleeding officers.
They could only say they had been set upon, knocked down, and their
prisoner taken from them. By whom they did not know, for it was dark, and
the crowd had dispersed.

When the onset came, Calhoun felt himself grasped by the arm, and a voice
whispered, "Follow me, quick!"

Into the