"I have not read the rest of the letter," said Bill, "but I had to show you this. I will read the rest now."
He hurried back to the library and resumed his reading. And the very next sentence made him sit up straight, a dark scowl on his face.
"And now I must tell you something so dreadful and so sad that I can scarcely write it," said the letter. "You will remember the money that was stolen from a certain officer next door to us here? It happened just before you left for school. Oh, Bill, you will find it almost impossible to believe it when I tell you that our Lee, Lee whom we have always found so honest and so faithful, is under arrest for taking it.
"It seems that two ladies were sewing or visiting on the porch across from our quarters, and a colonel was reading at the end of our own porch. Lee came out and went to the telephone and kept saying hello so many times that they all noticed him. The telephone is right beside the window, and inside, on a desk, the money was lying in an open envelope under a paperweight. The weight was so heavy the money could not blow away. Lee was the only one out there while the owner of the desk was away from it. He was only gone for a moment, while he spoke to an orderly at the back door.
"You know Lee always has lots of money of his own, but now they don't believe that his grandfather sends him the money at all. He is up for trial and if he is convicted, (and the circumstantial evidence is very strong) he will be sent to Leavenworth for years and years. It is a dreadful offence.
"The money was in an official envelope, and if that could only be found Lee would be cleared, unless it was found in his possession. They even ripped up his uniforms to see if it was hidden there, but now they think he has burned it. Of course I believe in Lee. It is all a horrible mistake, and some day perhaps it will be cleared up, but not soon enough to save Lee because if he even gets inside Leavenworth he will feel disgraced for life and I don't know what will become of him.
"Oh, Bill, it is simply too awful! Of course they found three or four hundred dollars on him, but he always has a great deal too much money for an enlisted man to be traveling around with. Dad is simply sick over it. Our Lee! We don't know what to do. Who could have taken that money? And where is the envelope? If we could only find that! They say a criminal always leaves some clue behind him, but the person who stole that money must be a clever thief. There is nothing, absolutely nothing to guide us.
"Isn't it too awful? I wish you would write to Lee. He is in the guard house, but I could get a letter in to him without any trouble. Make him understand, Bill, that you believe in him and are his friend. He is down-hearted."
There was but little more in the letter. Bill's mother had felt too sad to fill the pages with all the little details of the Post. And Bill, after he had read about Lee, felt as though he could never smile again. He felt helpless and lonesome and very far away. He wished heartily that he was back on the Post. It did seem as though he could help if he only knew what to do.
Advice: that was what he wanted. But who was there to advise him? The principal of the school was absolutely out of the question. He thought of the instructors one by one. No good on such a count.