g. Troops were hurried aboard expecting to start for
Richmond, and then a sudden roar burst from them. The trains did not
move toward Richmond, but back, through defiles that would lead them
again into their beloved valley. Cheers one after another rolled through
the trains, and Harry, who was in a forward car with the Invincibles,
joined in as joyfully as the best Virginian of them all.

The boy was so much exhausted that he fell into a doze on a seat. But
afterward he dimly remembered that he heard the two colonels talking.
They were trying to probe into the depths of Jackson's mind. They
surmised that this march over the mountains had been made partly to
delude Banks. They were right, at least as far as the delusion of Banks
went. He had been telegraphing that the army of Jackson was gone, on its
way to Richmond, and that there was nothing in front of him save a few
skirmishers.

The Virginians left their trains in the valley again, waited for their
wagons and artillery, and then marched on to Staunton, that neat little
city that was so dear to so many of them. But the mystery of what was
under Jackson's hat remained a mystery. They passed through Staunton,
amid the cheering people, women and children waving hats, scarfs and
handkerchiefs to their champions. But the terrible Stonewall gave them
no chance to dally in that pleasant place. Staunton was left far behind
and they never stopped until they went into camp on the side of another
range of mountains.

Here in a great forest they built a few fires, more not being allowed,
and after a hasty supper most of the men lay down in their blankets to
rest. But the young officers did not sleep. A small tent for Jackson had
been raised by the side of the Invincibles, and Harry, sitting on a log,
talked in low tones with Langdon and St. Clair. The three were of the
opinion that some blow was about to be struck, but what it was they did
not know.

"The Yankees must have lost us entirely," said Langdon. "To tell you the
truth, boys, I've lost myself. I've been marching about so much that I
don't know east from west and north from south. I'm sure that this is
the Southern army about us, but whether we're still in Virginia or not
is beyond me. What do you say, Arthur?"

"It's Virginia still, Tom, but we've undoubtedly done a lot of
marching."

"A lot of it! 'Lot' is a feeble word! We've marched a million miles in
the last few days. I've checked 'em off by the bunions on t