rosperous
farmer. When Calhoun came up, the owner, bareheaded and greatly excited,
was engaged in controversy with one of Calhoun's scouts who had just
appropriated a fine ham from the farmer's smoke-house and was busily
engaged in tying it to his saddle-bow.

"You have no business to take my property without paying for it!" the
farmer was saying, angrily. "I am a friend of the South; I have opposed
the war from the beginning."

Seeing Calhoun, and noticing he was an officer, the farmer rushed up to
him, crying, "Stop them! Stop them! they are stealing my property!"

"Well, I declare, if it isn't my old friend Jones!" exclaimed Calhoun.
"How do you do, Mr. Jones? Where are those five hundred armed Knights who
you said would meet us here? Where is your hat, that you are not throwing
it high in air? Why are you not shouting hallelujahs over our coming?"

Jones had stopped and was staring at Calhoun with open mouth and bulging
eyes. "Bless my soul," he at length managed to stammer, "if it isn't Mr.
Harrison!"

"Lieutenant Pennington, at your service. But, Jones, where are those
Knights of the Golden Circle you promised would join us here?"

Jones hung his head. "We--we didn't expect you to come so soon," he managed
to answer; "we didn't have time to rally."

"Mr. Jones, you told me this whole country would welcome us as liberators.
They did welcome us back there in Corydon, but it was with lead. Sixteen
of our men were killed and wounded. Mr. Jones, there will be several
funerals for you to attend in Corydon."

"It must be some of those Union Leaguers," exclaimed Mr. Jones. "Glad they
were killed; they threatened to hang me the other day."

"They were heroes, compared to you!" hotly exclaimed Calhoun. "You and
your cowardly Knights can plot in secret, stab in the dark, curse your
government, but when it comes to fighting like men you are a pack of
cowardly curs."

But Mr. Jones hardly heard this fierce Phillipic; his eyes were fixed on
his smoke-house, which was being entered by some more of the soldiers.

"Won't you stop them," he cried, wringing his hands; "they will take it
all! Why, you are a pack of thieves!"

"Boys, don't enter or disturb anything in the house," cried Calhoun,
turning to his men, "but take anything out of doors you can lay your hands
on; horses, everything."

The men dispersed with a shout to carry out the order. Calhoun left Mr.
Jones in the road jumping up and down, tearing his hair