The president, on future reflection, thought Roberts acted a little "nervous" over this suggestion; but Roberts's ready acceptance of the advice caused him to forget it on the instant, and he had no suspicion whatever that Mr. Brown's name was counterfeited on the checks. In proper time Roberts appeared with a power of attorney, duly made, and purporting to be Mr. Brown's, which was securely lodged in the bank.
By and by Mr. Brown, who used his bank mostly as one of deposit, being then retired from business, and having money enough for his current wants accruing from the rent of some two or three farms, and his store-house, and interest on money lent to surrounding farmers, and having no business occasion to often visit the bank, going one time to the shire town on business, thought he would make a friendly call at the bank for a moment on his friend the president.
On his calling, the usual hand-shaking and salutations took place, and were followed by the usual gossip about a little of everything and nothing; and Mr. Brown, who had been invited to a seat in the directors' room, rose to retire, bidding the president good day. As he was passing out, he spoke jocularly to the president,—
"The banks' breaking, I suppose, does not disturb you? Bank's sound, I take it. You've got my deposits all safe as the rest, I dare say, eh?" with a little chuckle, as if he thought he had expended a little salutary wit.
"Yes, perfectly safe, what there's left of 'em. Can't tell you exactly, without looking, how the account stands; but some balance yet to your credit."
Brown thought the president was joking, laughed a little, and went out. He had not gone far on his way, however, when, recalling the president's manner when speaking, he began to think he wasn't joking. But Mr. Brown drove on and on. At last he got to be uneasy, and determined to go back to ask the president what he meant by that word "balance." The president was surprised by the query, and answered,—
"Why, I mean that Roberts has not yet drawn out all your funds on that power of attorney."
"Power of attorney? What do you mean?"
The president was confounded. He saw that old Mr. Brown was either forgetful, or that there was some wrong somewhere. He caused the cashier to look up Mr. Brown's account, and draw the balance, and presented the same to Mr. Brown; who, in turn, was confounded, said he had given Roberts no drafts, or any power of attorney. The latter was produced. Mr. Brown could not believe his own eyes. So perfectly like his own signature was that of the power of attorney, that he clasped his hand to his head, and after deep thought for a few moments, said to the president,—
"Well, I would not believe it. It seems like a dream to me. I cannot remember when I signed that power of attorney; but I must have done it in some hour of weakness for there's John Wentworth's name to it as witness, and I know his handwriting well. He has borrowed money of me often, and given his notes. But, see here, if my name is forged, so may John's be. I don't know anything about this power of attorney."