“‘Certainly, sir,’ said John unhesitatingly, ’that is the one the undertaker found under my poor dead master’s pillow, and which I took to Mr. Percival’s room immediately.’

“Then the paper was unfolded and placed before the witness.

“‘Now, Mr. O’Neill, will you tell me if that is your signature?’

“John looked at it for a moment; then he said:  ‘Excuse me, sir,’ and produced a pair of spectacles which he carefully adjusted before he again examined the paper.  Then he thoughtfully shook his head.

“‘It don’t look much like my writing, sir,’ he said at last.  ’That is to say,’ he added, by way of elucidating the matter, ’it does look like my writing, but then I don’t think it is.’

“There was at that moment a look in Mr. Percival Brooks’ face,” continued the man in the corner quietly, “which then and there gave me the whole history of that quarrel, that illness of Mr. Brooks, of the will, aye! and of the murder of Patrick Wethered too.

“All I wondered at was how every one of those learned counsel on both sides did not get the clue just the same as I did, but went on arguing, speechifying, cross-examining for nearly a week, until they arrived at the one conclusion which was inevitable from the very first, namely, that the will was a forgery—­a gross, clumsy, idiotic forgery, since both John O’Neill and Pat Mooney, the two witnesses, absolutely repudiated the signatures as their own.  The only successful bit of caligraphy the forger had done was the signature of old Mr. Brooks.

“It was a very curious fact, and one which had undoubtedly aided the forger in accomplishing his work quickly, that Mr. Wethered the lawyer having, no doubt, realized that Mr. Brooks had not many moments in life to spare, had not drawn up the usual engrossed, magnificent document dear to the lawyer heart, but had used for his client’s will one of those regular printed forms which can be purchased at any stationer’s.

“Mr. Percival Brooks, of course, flatly denied the serious allegation brought against him.  He admitted that the butler had brought him the document the morning after his father’s death, and that he certainly, on glancing at it, had been very much astonished to see that that document was his father’s will.  Against that he declared that its contents did not astonish him in the slightest degree, that he himself knew of the testator’s intentions, but that he certainly thought his father had entrusted the will to the care of Mr. Wethered, who did all his business for him.

“‘I only very cursorily glanced at the signature,’ he concluded, speaking in a perfectly calm, clear voice; ’you must understand that the thought of forgery was very far from my mind, and that my father’s signature is exceedingly well imitated, if, indeed, it is not his own, which I am not at all prepared to believe.  As for the two witnesses’ signatures, I don’t think I had ever seen them before.  I took the document to Messrs. Barkston and Maud, who had often done business for me before, and they assured me that the will was in perfect form and order.’