Green had already broken the flap of the envelope, revealing the edges of a considerable thickness of banknotes.
"Why, there's a note here with the bills," proclaimed the excited soldier.
"What does the note say?"
"It says 'Friend, you'll find all your money here except twenty dollars that I spent. Meant to keep it all, but found stolen money brings no pleasure. Hope you'll forgive me.'"
"What does the writing look like?" demanded Sergeant Hupner.
"It ain't written; it's printed," replied Private Green. "Here, take the note and look at it."
Sergeant Hupner did glance at the note briefly, but here he felt he would find no clue. After all, a man's printing does not closely resemble his writing.
"Anything written on the envelope?" demanded the sergeant, holding out his hand. Yes; the envelope contained the inscription, "Pvt. Wm. Green." That was all; but it wasn't printed. The words were written in bold, flowing handwriting. Sergeant Hupner felt a throb as he glanced at the handwriting on that envelope. But he knew his duty.
"Corporal Terry, go to the nearest window and have the sentry pass the word for the corporal of the guard!"
Then Hupner asked one more question: