Different men received the news each in a different fashion. Some
whirled their hats in the air and cheered. Those who saw promotion and
the new insignia on their straps vanish, swore deeply. Chesterton fell
upon his saddle-bags and began to distribute his possessions among
the enlisted men. After he had remobilized, his effects consisted of a
change of clothes, his camera, water-bottle, and his medicine case. In
his present state of health and spirits he could not believe he stood
in need of the medicine case, but it was a gift from Miss Armitage, and
carried with it a promise from him that he always would carry it. He
had "packed" it throughout the campaign, and for others it had proved of
value.

"I take it you are leaving us," said an officer enviously.

"I am leaving you so quick," cried Chesterton laughing, "that you won't
even see the dust. There's a transport starts from Mayaguez at six
to-morrow morning, and, if I don't catch it, this pony will die on the
wharf."

"The road to Mayaguez is not healthy for Americans," said the general in
command. "I don't think I ought to let you go. The enemy does not know
peace is on yet, and there are a lot of guerillas--"

Chesterton shook his head in pitying wonder.

"Not let me go!" he exclaimed. "Why, General, you haven't enough men in
your command to stop me, and as for the Spaniards and guerillas--! I'm
homesick," cried the young man. "I'm so damned homesick that I am liable
to die of it before the transport gets me to Sandy Hook."