e gwine to get away, too." And Dan did get
away, and Chad, to his shame, saw Morgan and Colonel Hunt loaded on a
boat to be sent down to prison in a State penitentiary! It was a
grateful surprise to Chad, two months later, to learn from a Federal
officer that Morgan with six others had dug out of prison and escaped.

"I was going through that very town," said the officer, "and a fellow,
shaved and sheared like a convict, got aboard and sat down in the same
seat with me. As we passed the penitentiary, he turned with a yawn--and
said, in a matter-of-fact way:

"'That's where Morgan is kept, isn't it?" and then he drew out a flask.
I thought he had wonderfully good manners in spite of his looks, and,
so help me, if he didn't wave his hand, bow like a Bayard, and hand it
over to me:

"'Let's drink to the hope that Morgan may always be as safe as he is
now.' I drank to his toast with a hearty Amen, and the fellow never
cracked a smile. It was Morgan himself."

Early in '64 the order had gone round for negroes to be enrolled as
soldiers, and again no rebel felt more outraged than Chadwick Buford.
Wolford, his commander, was dishonorably dismissed from the service for
bitter protests and harsh open criticism of the Government, and Chad,
himself, felt like tearing off with his own hands the straps which he
had won with so much bravery and worn with so much pride. But the
instinct that led him into the Union service kept his lips sealed when
his respect for that service, in his own State, was well-nigh
gone--kept him in that State where he thought his duty lay. There was
need of him and thousands more like him. For, while active war was now
over in Kentucky, its brood of evils was still thickening. Every county
in the State was ravaged by a guerilla band--and the ranks of these
marauders began to be swelled by Confederates, particularly in the
mountains and in the hills that skirt them. Banks, trains, public
vaults, stores, were robbed right and left, and murder and revenge were
of daily occurrence. Daws Dillon was an open terror both in the
mountains and in the Bluegrass. Hitherto the bands had been Union and
Confederate but now, more and more, men who had been rebels joined
them. And Chad Buford could understand. For, many a rebel
soldier--"hopeless now for his cause," as Richard Hunt was wont to say,
"fighting from pride, bereft of sympathy, aid, and encouragement that
he once received, and compelled to wring existence fr