"That is true, and yet—" Gilbert broke off short. "Hullo! What in the world does this mean?"
He had torn open the envelope addressed to Ralph Branders, and was now staring in amazement at the blank sheets of paper it had contained.
"Blank sheets, eh? Well, you must have been asleep when you put them into the envelope," was the comment of the adjutant's assistant. "Or else somebody has been putting up a joke on you," he added.
Gilbert did not reply, for the reason that he was just then doing some rapid thinking. He remembered how he had been aroused by Nuggy Polk and how he had found the sealed envelope on the passageway floor.
"I believe he tampered with that letter," he said to himself. "He took out my written sheets, and substituted these blanks. He is shrewder than I thought him to be."
"Well, lieutenant, what are you going to do about it?" asked the adjutant's assistant. "I've got to be going inside of ten minutes."
"I'll hunt up my letter—if I can," burst out
