The prisoners told me afterward that, suspecting they would be searched, they had taken off the caps of the large, hollow brass buttons of their coats, carefully folded a bill into each cavity, and replaced the cap.

In this way they brought in several hundred dollars safely.
There was one dirty old Englishman in the party, who, Turner was convinced, had money concealed about his person.

He compelled him to strip off everything, and stand shivering in the sharp cold, while he took up one filthy rag after another, felt over each carefully, and scrutinized each seam and fold.

I was delighted to see that after all his nauseating work he did not find so much as a five cent piece.
It came my turn.

I had no desire, in that frigid atmosphere, to strip down to what Artemus Ward called "the skanderlous costoom of the Greek Slave;" so I pulled out of my pocket my little store of wealth--ten dollars in greenbacks, sixty dollars in Confederate graybacks--and displayed it as Turner came up with, "There's all I have, sir." Turner pocketed it without a word, and did not search me.