“Well, I can send you through, young man, but you are going on a fool’s errand. I have had a good deal to do with those Knights of the Golden Circle, as they call themselves. They are all right in giving away everything they know; but when it [pg 200]comes to fighting, bah! one of my companies would lick ten thousand.”
“Then you haven’t much faith in the fighting qualities of the Knights?” said Calhoun, with a smile.
“Faith? Not I. They are Yankees, mere money-grabbers. Ask one of them for ten dollars and he will shut up as tight as a clam. But they worry the Lincoln government, and keep up a fire in the rear; therefore they should be encouraged. You will find them a scurvy lot to deal with, though.”
“How soon can I start North?” asked Calhoun.
“To-night,” answered Forrest. “I am the president of an underground railroad, took my cue from the Abolitionists when they were engaged in running our niggers through to Canada. I have a regular mail North. I will send you through with one of the carriers. I reckon I had better send your credentials by a second carrier. It might be awkward if you were captured with them. You must leave here dressed as a citizen, and bear in mind that your name is W. B. Harrison.”
“Where shall I find my credentials?” asked Calhoun.
“At Mount Vernon, Illinois, which is the terminus of my railroad at present. Inquire for Judge Worley. Once in his hands, you will be all right. If all the Knights were like him there would be something doing; but he is a Kentuckian, no whining Yankee.”
Calhoun had heard much of General Forrest, and during his interview with him studied him carefully. He put him down as a man of indomitable energy, of great courage, and possessing military genius of a high order. On the other hand, he was illiterate, rough in his language, and lacked the polish of a cultured gentleman, which Morgan possessed. But there was a magnetism about him which drew men to him.
“If I were not riding with Morgan, I should surely want to be with Forrest,” thought Calhoun.
Night came, and Calhoun was introduced to the mail-carrier who was to be his guide. He was a thin, wiry man, named Givens. In age, Calhoun put him down at about forty. The few days during which Calhoun was with Givens gave him a very high opinion of the guide’s bravery and sagacity. Givens related many of his hairbreadth escapes during their journey, and seemed to treat them as great jokes. During the entire journey through Tennessee and Kentucky, Givens kept to unfrequented roads, and in the darkest night rode as one entirely familiar with the way.