Not knowing the flattering words spoken of him, Morgan wended his way to his headquarters, where he was informed by the orderly who took his horse that a young Confederate officer had been waiting for some time to see him.
“He said he must see you,” continued the orderly, “and if necessary he would wait all night.”
“All right, I will see what he wants,” replied Morgan, as he turned and entered his headquarters. There he was greeted by a young man, not much [pg 19]more than a boy, who wore the uniform of a Confederate lieutenant.
Morgan gave him a swift glance, and then exclaimed: “Bless my heart! if this isn’t Calhoun Pennington, son of my old friend Judge Pennington! I am more than glad to see you. I have heard of some of your exploits, and often wondered why you did not seek to take service with me. Let’s see! You were on the staff of the late lamented Governor Johnson, were you not?”
“Yes,” replied Calhoun; and his voice trembled, and tears came into his eyes in spite of himself, as he thought of the death of his beloved chief.
“A grand man, a brave man,” said Morgan, gently. “Now that he has gone, what do you propose doing?”
“That is what I have come to see you about. General Beauregard has offered me a position on his staff, but I wanted to see you before I accepted.”
“What! a position on the staff of General Beauregard! That is a rare honor for one so young as you are. Of course you are going to accept?”
“I do not know yet; I am to give him an answer in the morning, as I said I wanted to see you first. Great as the honor is which has been offered me, I feel it is a service which would not be agreeable to me. I much prefer the freer life of a scout and ranger. Perhaps you may know, I have done much of this kind of work. I have even performed more dangerous tasks than that of scouting, and I confess I rather like it.”
Morgan mused for a moment, and then suddenly asked: “Are you not a cousin of Frederic Shackelford, son of the late Colonel Richard Shackelford of our army?”