Dearest Timothy
Right now, I'm in prison. It's cold, the food is terrible, and I'm writing with a piece of charcoal! I'm going to be excicuted for a crime that I didn't do (just in case you didn't know, apperently I stole OUR OWN cattle.)
What really happened was that I tried to stop the real theives, and they beat me up and ran to our base and told our officer that I did it. I caught the first one and held a musket up to him, but then a second one held a knife to me. Please try to talk to general P. to let me out.
Sincerely,
Sam Meeker
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