CORPORAL HAL'S ADMISSION
LIEUTENANT PRESCOTT paused, looking sharply at Algy.
"Ferrers, if you can see a way through difficulties as easily as you
promise, then you're going to be a valuable man for the Army. What's
your plan?"
"Why, as I understand it," beamed Ferrers placidly, "the whole trouble
is caused by the loss of some seven hundred dollars that the Overton
chap got from the simpleton Green?"
"Seven hundred which some men almost suspect that Corporal Overton took
from Green," corrected Lieutenant Prescott.
"All the same thing, as far as the really important details go," beamed
Algy. "I'll settle it out of hand. You know, dear chaps, the guv'nor
owns a few banks in his own name, and he ships me yellow-backs by the
case lots. Result is, I always have plenty of money, and am likely to
have more than ever now, for there doesn't seem to be much chance in the
Army to spend it. So----"
"But what has all this to do with Corporal Overton's unhappy
situation?"
"All leads up to the point, Prescott, dear chap," protested Algy. "See
how simple it all really is? I can spare seven hundred dollars as well
as I can a cigarette. I'll hand the amount to Overton. He'll hand it to
Green--and all the cause of the trouble is removed and everybody happy."
"Just like that!" gasped Lieutenant Greg Holmes ironically, and he
appeared to need the support of the mantel at which he clutched.
There was a savage look on Lieutenant Prescott's face as he demanded:
"Ferrers, are you trying to make game of me?"
"Make game of you?" echoed Lieutenant Algy, with a face so blank, so
full of wonderment and so lacking in guile. "Why, I----"
He broke off abruptly, going to the top drawer of a dresser.
"Money talks," announced Algy, holding out a long wallet. "There's a few
thousand dollars in this leather. Help yourself to whatever will square
Overton with the individual Green."
"Put your pocketbook up," replied Prescott almost brusquely. "And accept
my apology at the same time, Ferrers, if you'll be so good. You weren't
trying to make fun of me; I know it now. This is simply another buttered
piece off your thick cake of stupidity."
"I've never been noted for cleverness; even the guv'nor admits that to
me, in confidence," confessed Lieutenant Algy. "But why won't the money
do the trick?"
"Because--oh, why--tell him, won't you, Holmesy? I'm off to see Captain
Cortland."
Prescott strode away to his company commander for advice.
"Perhaps you think, sir, I'm a good deal of a fool to take such a keen
interest in this matter of Overton," suggested the lieutenant.
"On the contrary, an officer who isn't interested in the men serving
under him has done wrongly in choosing the Army for his profession,"
replied Captain Cortland gravely. "I, too, am disturbed, for, like
yourself, Mr. Prescott, I find it impossible to believe that such a
clean, clear-cut young soldier as Corporal Overton has been guilty of
dishonesty."
"Can you suggest anything that I can do, sir?" the young lieutenant
asked gravely.
"I have been thinking over that same matter. It seems difficult to know
what to do. Of course you can let Corporal Overton see that he has your
confidence, Mr. Prescott. You may assure him, at any time, that he also
has mine, if you think that will do him any good. But the only thing
that will actually clear up the matter will be the discovery of the real
thief--and that's a matter, I fancy, that's going to be full of
difficulty."
Leaving his captain's house, Lieutenant Prescott took a walk along one
side of the parade ground. He hoped to encounter Hal, but that young
corporal was half a mile away at the time, practising signaling under
Sergeant Hupner.
Failing in encountering young Overton, Lieutenant Prescott remembered
that Corporal Noll Terry, now in charge at the post telegraph station,
was likely to know all about his chum.
Stepping over to the station, where one operator was sending a long
military dispatch, while another leaned idly back in his chair, Prescott
found Noll at another table, absorbed in the study of an instrument that
he had taken to pieces.
"I want to say a few words to you, Corporal Terry," announced the young
lieutenant, stepping into a box-like office at the rear of the larger
room.
Prescott threw himself down at the desk, while Noll, after saluting,
remained standing at attention.
"Close the door, Corporal. That's it. Now, I want to ask you a few
questions about your friend Corporal Overton, and the disappearance of
Private Green's money."
Noll flushed painfully, though all he answered was:
"Very good, sir."
"Don't misunderstand me, Corporal Terry," went on the young lieutenant.
"I am not making an official investigation, and I am not looking for
evidence to implicate Corporal Overton in any crime. I don't mind
telling you that I haven't a particle of belief in Overton's guilt. The
very idea that he would rob any one is opposed to the common sense of
any one who really knows your friend and his record."
"Thank you, sir."
This time Noll's face was positively beaming with pleasure.
"So, you see, you don't need to be in the least on your guard in what
you may say to me," continued the lieutenant, smiling in his most
friendly way. "I don't mind stating, further, that my whole interest in
this matter is the interest of an officer who is determined, if
possible, to see a good man cleared from suspicion."
"What can I tell you, sir?" Noll asked eagerly.
"Well, Corporal, the worst evidence pointing to any presumption of guilt
against your comrade and friend is the finding of the revolver hidden
under his bedclothes. What do you think of that incident?"
"Why, I think, sir, that the revolver must have been slipped in under
the bedclothes by some one who wanted to throw all the suspicion on
Corporal Overton."
"I agree with you. Now, was that man an actual enemy of Corporal
Overton's, or did he merely thrust the revolver into the first bed that
he could in passing?"
"My own belief, sir, that an actual enemy of Overton's did it, sir."
"Now, Corporal Terry, who are the men that have cots past Corporal
Overton's--that is, past his when traveling away from Green's cot?"
"Hinkey, Clegg, Danes, Potter, Reed, Vreeland and myself, sir."
"With which one of the men you have named has Corporal Overton had any
trouble, either recently or some time back?"
"With Hinkey, for one, sir."
"What was it over?"
Noll retold the incident of the friendly scuffle between Corporals
Overton and Hyman, and the dropping of the signal flag, through a window
and upon Private Hinkey's head.
"Had Overton had trouble with other men?"
"Nothing more, sir, than that he had once or twice rebuked Vreeland and
Danes for carelessness in squad drill."
"What kind of men are Vreeland and Danes, in your opinion, Corporal?"
"Careless and happy-go-lucky, but good-hearted fellows, sir, and likely
to be good soldiers when they've been licked into shape."
"But neither of them is inclined to be dishonest or sulky?"
"From what I have seen of Vreeland and Danes, sir, I am inclined to
answer with a very positive 'no.'"
Lieutenant Prescott looked thoughtful, remaining silent for some
moments, while Corporal Noll Terry stood looking straight ahead.
"Corporal," said the young officer finally, "Mr. Holmes has told me what
a very thorough search was made after the alarm had been given. But no
sign of the missing money was found. Have you any idea on that head? Can
you make even a plausible suggestion as to how the money was taken care
of by the thief?"
"I cannot, sir."
"Have you heard any of the men make reasonable suggestions as to what
was done with the money?"
"I think I must have heard all the men in the room talking about it at
one time or another, Lieutenant, but the men are puzzled. They cannot
account for the complete disappearance of the money."
"Are you keeping your eyes and ears open all the time, for any clue in
the matter?"
"Yes, sir!" Noll answered. "And I shan't cease doing so until the whole
mystery is cleaned up."
"Good! May I depend upon you, Corporal, to come to me, at any time, with
any information that you think will help?"
"Yes, sir; and I thank you for the invitation to do so."
"If I believed Corporal Overton the guilty man, and could find evidence
that would prove his guilt and have him bounced out of the service, then
I'd do my whole duty," went on Lieutenant Prescott. "But I simply can't
believe him guilty, and so I'm prepared to help him at any time when
there's the slightest chance."
"May I tell Corporal Overton that, sir?" asked Noll eagerly.
"Yes; but caution him not to mention to others what I have said to you.
You are also at liberty to tell Overton that Captain Cortland is wholly
convinced of his innocence, and so, I know, is Lieutenant Hampton. But
some of the men in the company, and more especially in the squad room,
are holding aloof from Corporal Overton, are they not?"
"I wouldn't exactly say that they are doing it in a mean way, sir; but
of course soldiers hate thieves, and so the merest taint of a suspicion
serves to make some of the men feel rather shy about having anything
unnecessary to do with Corporal Overton."
"Too bad!" murmured Lieutenant Prescott. Then, in his usual official
tone:
"That is all, Corporal Terry."
Noll saluted and left the inner office. Almost immediately afterward
Lieutenant Prescott sauntered out.
In the meantime, Hal, after some brisk practice at wig-wagging, was on
his way back to barracks with Sergeant Hupner.
"You're going to make a real signalman, one of these days, lad,"
remarked the sergeant, kindly. "You have the speed, and you don't lose
any of the clearness of your signaling when you go fast."
"It's great work," smiled Corporal Hal. "Just for the moment it makes me
almost sorry that I didn't enlist in the signal corps."
"The infantry is the real branch of the service--the real fighting arm,"
returned Sergeant Hupner.
"Yes; I know it, and that's the principal reason why I chose the
infantry before enlisting."
Together the sergeant and his young corporal entered the barracks,
stepping into their own squad room.
There the very first person they met was Private William Green, looking,
still, as though he wanted to burst into tears. Green hadn't smiled
once since meeting with his big loss.
"Good afternoon, Sergeant," was Green's greeting. He didn't seem to see
Hal at all, a fact that the boyish soldier noted instantly. It cut like
a whip to know that Green really suspected his young corporal.
Hal stepped down the length of the squad room. Some of the men greeted
him, though none very enthusiastically.
Then Noll came in, drawing his chum aside and detailing the interview
with Lieutenant Prescott.
That brightened Hal Overton a good deal. In the middle of the squad room
some of the men were having a jolly time, and laughing heartily. Down at
the further end of the room, near the door, mournful William Green kept
by himself and grieved.
"It's certainly fine to know that one's officers trust him, anyway," Hal
declared.
"Oh, this abominable business will all be cleared up before long," Noll
Terry predicted cheerily.
"I'd like to believe you," Corporal Hal smiled wistfully.
"Wait and see!"
The merriment in the middle of the room was now going on at its height.
Private Clegg, who was an excellent storyteller, was relating one of
his very very best, and it bore on Army life.
Hal and Noll took chairs at one of the writing tables.
A few minutes later a wild whoop sounded from Private William Green.
"I've got it! I've got it!" he yelled, dancing about like a crazy
Indian.
"A bat in your belfry? Sure you've got it," yelled Private Clegg.
Sergeant Hupner had run over to where Green was dancing.
"I've got the money. It has come back to me," sang William Green
joyously.
In an instant there was a curiosity-inspired rush that every man in the
room shared.
Private Green now held high aloft over his head a long envelope whose
bulkiness everyone else could see.
"It's the money!" he gasped, chokingly.
"Every man in the room but Green fall in!" roared Sergeant Hupner's
voice. "Corporal Terry, take charge of the formation!"
There was a queer, strained hush in the room for the next few moments.
Hardly anything was heard but the low breathing of the men, or the few
crisp, quiet words of Corporal Noll as he made the men dress their
alignment on Corporal Hal, who stood at the right of the line.
"Hold your men so," nodded Sergeant Hupner tersely. "Now, Green, are you
sure you have all your money back?"
"I--I hope so," faltered Green. "The envelope is bulky enough."
"Put it on your cot and let me see it," ordered Hupner.
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:
"Green, where and how did you find this envelope?"
"Just the moment before I helloed. It was tucked inside my bedding, so
that just the end of the envelope showed."
Quickly the corporal of the guard was on hand, accompanied by two
privates of the guard. Sergeant Hupner explained what had happened,
adding:
"Corporal, I think you'd better send for the officer of the day."
That officer of the day, who shortly arrived, was Lieutenant Ray of C
company.
He listened gravely, while Sergeant Hupner told the story, then asked a
few questions of Private Green.
"Sergeant," directed Lieutenant Ray, "start the envelope passing down
the line. Each man is to look at the handwriting, and state whether he
recognizes it."
All this time the men had remained standing in line, though at ease.
Sergeant Hupner, with a queer look, passed the envelope to Corporal Hal
Overton, who stood at the right of the line.
The instant he glanced at the writing Hal started, then changed color.
"Do you know the writing on that envelope, Corporal Overton?" demanded
the officer of the day, eyeing the young soldier.
"Yes, sir."
"Are you positive that you know whose writing it is, Corporal Overton?"
"Yes, sir."
"Whose?"
"Mine, sir," replied Corporal Hal.