ohn O'Neill had not finished his evidence, and Mr. Walter Hibbert
had a bit of sensation still up his sleeve. He had, namely, produced a
paper, the will proved by Mr. Percival Brooks, and had asked John
O'Neill if once again he recognized the paper.

"'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 documen