Then by column of fours the battalion marched briskly off the field, to be halted and dismissed near barracks.
No sooner were the men in their quarters than the same angry inquiry rose in each squad room:
"Who has been writing lying letters about a comrade?"
No one admitted being the dastard, of course, yet over at headquarters Major Silsbee, at that very moment, was asking:
"What makes you so very sure, Wright, that some man in this command wrote the anonymous letter?"
"It is all very simple, sir," replied the adjutant. "Look at the note again, sir, and you'll see that it is typewritten——"
"Of course, Wright; I've known that from the first."
"But, sir, it's written in the style of type that is used on the Everite typewriter. This post is equipped with Everite typewriters; we have them here at headquarters, and every first sergeant has one, too, for his clerk."
"And there may be a dozen more Everite typewriters over in Clowdry," suggested Major Silsbee dubiously.
"No, Major; I've made an investigation. I have a list of every firm or person in Clowdry who owns a machine—only about a dozen in all, and not one of them is an Everite. Major, the letter was written on this post, and with an Everite machine."