Moreover, Private Green had made not a little by lending money to comrades in the battalion. He loaned on the time-honored system of lending among enlisted men in the Army—the system of "five now but six on pay day."
There are soldiers in every company—in every squad room—who always spend their pay within a few days after receiving it from the paymaster. As soon as his money is gone, and he needs or wants more, the improvident soldier turns to some comrade who saves and lends his money. The loan is five dollars, but by all the traditions the borrower must return six on pay day.
William Green had been making money on this plan. Some of his wealth Green now had on deposit at a Denver bank, but much of his "pile" he always insisted on carrying with him.
And usually this is a safe enough plan. In no body of men in the world does honesty average higher than among the soldiers of the American regular Army.
Once in a while, of course, an exceptional "black sheep" may get in even among soldiers, and William had often been warned not to keep so much convertible wealth about his person. But William trusted his comrades and carried large sums of cash.
"Corporal Overton, you take one side of the room, and Corporal Terry the other. Scan the floor for any sign of a buckskin pouch."
"Let me help," begged William.
"All right," nodded Sergeant Hupner. "And look, also, for any stool that may be overturned."
The search was unavailing. No sight was gained of the buckskin pouch, while every stool in the room was upright and in place.
"Does any man here know anything about Green's buckskin?" demanded Hupner.