him with words of
love and comfort, but absolutely refused to come and see him, saying it
would be dangerous. In this she was right, for Andrew Harmon was alert. He
believed that Joyce had had something to do with the disappearance of
Calhoun, and had her closely watched. Fortunately his suspicions did not
extend to Abe, so that communication between Joyce and Calhoun was not
interrupted. At the end of two weeks he felt able to leave his place of
concealment. But where should he go? He longed to be South, in the midst
of the strife, but his heart was drawn toward Columbus, where his comrades
lay languishing in prison. What could he do at Columbus? He did not know,
but something might transpire that would enlighten him. At least he would
go and look over the field. Once out of the neighborhood, in his Federal
uniform and with Brown's discharge in his pocket, there would be little
fear of detection. He made his preparations to go, wrote Joyce the letter
which she prized so highly, and bade his kind protectors farewell, placing
in their hands a hundred dollars. Their surprise and joy over the gift
were about equal.

"De Lawd keep yo'!" said Aunt Liza, wiping her eyes.

Calhoun had determined to start early in the evening, travel all night,
lie concealed during the day, and travel the next night. By that time he
thought he would be so far away from the place of his escape that he could
venture to take the cars without danger. Aunt Liza had supplied him with
ample provisions for the two days. He carried out his programme, and on
the morning of the second day found himself near a small town where he
concluded to take the cars, but deemed it safer to wait for the night
train. The conductor eyed him sharply when he paid his fare instead of
showing a pass, for soldiers generally travelled on Federal
transportation. But the conductor took the money and passed on without
remark.

Opposite Calhoun in the car sat a gentlemanly looking man, and much to
Calhoun's surprise, when the conductor passed, he saw the gentleman make
the sign of recognition of the Knights of the Golden Circle, and it was
answered by the conductor. When the conductor next passed Calhoun gave the
sign. The man stared, but did not answer. But he seemed to be troubled,
and passed through the cars frequently, and Calhoun saw that he was
watching him closely. At length, in passing, the conductor bent down and
whispered to the gentleman opposite. Calhoun now knew