low, firm
voice. "Fool, don't you see I have the drop on you?"

The set features of the Federal relaxed, he even smiled as he replied: "I
guess you are right. No use kicking. What is your pleasure?"

"Dismount. No, on this side."

The officer did as he was bidden. Calhoun took hold of the horse's bridle,
still keeping the man covered with his revolver.

"Now," continued Calhoun, "your name, rank, and regiment."

"Mark Crawford, Captain Company B, --th Ohio Cavalry," was the answer.

"Captain Crawford, I am very happy to have met you. As it may be a little
inconvenient for you and me to travel together, I ask you to give me your
parole of honor that you will not bear arms against the Southern
Confederacy until regularly exchanged."

"May I be permitted to ask," replied the Captain, with a peculiar smile,
"who it is that makes this demand?"

"Lieutenant Calhoun Pennington of Morgan's cavalry."

"Well, Lieutenant Calhoun Pennington of Morgan's cavalry, you may go to
the devil, before I will give you my parole."

Calhoun was astounded at the reply. "I am afraid I shall have to shoot
you," he said.

"Shoot an unarmed prisoner if you will," was the fearless reply; "it would
be an act worthy of a Rebel and traitor. Lieutenant Pennington, I am well
aware you are alone, that you cannot take me with you. It would be an act
of cowardice in me to give you my parole."

As Captain Crawford said this, he folded his arms across his breast and
looked Calhoun in the face without the quiver of a muscle.

Calhoun was filled with admiration at the bravery of the man. "Captain,
you are too brave a man to die a dog's death, neither would I think of
shooting a defenceless man. I shall let you go, but shall be under the
necessity of borrowing your horse. You will find mine in the bushes there
badly crippled. Good-bye. May we meet again." Thus saying, Calhoun sprang
on the Captain's horse, and dashed away.

Captain Crawford stood looking after him until he was out of sight. "May
you have your wish, my fine fellow!" he exclaimed; "I would ask nothing
better than that we should meet again."

Both had their wish; they met again, not once, but several times.

"A brave fellow, that," said Calhoun to himself, as he galloped away. "I
would as soon have thought of shooting my brother. He didn't bluff worth a
cent."

The horse which Calhoun had captured was a good one, and he rode him for
many a day. We will not follow Calhoun in all