ON BOARD THE TROOPSHIP North to an embarkation camp, not to a pier.

There passed several days of restlessness and unreality of life.
Final issues of all lacking equipment were made at last.

Then, one evening, after dark, the Ninety-ninth once more fell in and marched away, the bandsmen, carrying their silent instruments, marching in headquarters company.
No send-off, no cheering, not even the playing of "The Girl I Left Behind Me." No relatives or friends to say good-bye! Nothing but secrecy, expectancy, an indescribable eagerness clothed in stealth.
"How do you feel, Sergeant ?" Captain Prescott asked, as he and his top stood at the head of A company awaiting the final order that was to set the nearly four thousand officers and men of the Ninety-ninth in motion on the road.
"Like a burglar, sneaking out of a house he didn't realize he was in, sir," Kelly answered.
First Lieutenant Noll Terry shivered; it was impatient uncertainty---nothing else.
Then the order came.

The dense column reached the railway, where the sections of the troop train waited.

By platoons the men marched into dimly lighted cars.