But the old man grew more vigorous and confident as court after court sat, and the case was put over upon one pretence or another. But this, after all, was no disparagement to Mr. Brown's cause, for, before he could force the suit on to trial, Wentworth recovered his mind and health; and being apprised of what was going on, declared that he had not seen Roberts for several months before the 26th of June, and had not seen him since; and knew that he had never witnessed such an instrument for Mr. Brown. Wentworth also kept an accurate business diary, which covered all the time, and corroborated the testimony that we had secured of his being on that day, and before and after, in Pittsburgh, etc. Wentworth accompanied Mr. Brown and his attorney to the bank to see the power of attorney, and they were informed that it was at their attorney's; but the officers would give no order that he might see it. But Mr. Brown's attorney, conceiving that the bank's attorney would not refuse him a professional courtesy, took Mr. Brown and Wentworth to his brother lawyer's office, and they were at once shown the document. Looking at it for a moment in astonishment, Wentworth exclaimed,—
"No; that signature is not mine. The 'e' in the name ain't just as I make it; besides, I haven't signed my name, or written a letter, or made an entry in black ink, in many years (the signature was in black). I always use blue."
"But," interposed the bank's attorney, "you may not have had blue ink at hand when you witnessed that instrument."
"I tell you," said Wentworth, in a manner which could not be mistaken for its firm honesty, "I never witnessed that instrument. I never can use anybody's else pen, and I always go prepared," said he, taking out from his side coat pocket an old, long, portable inkstand, with a pen held in its leathern case. "There, I've carried that, now, for over eight years, and I have never written a word from any other inkstand, with any other pen but my own, or any kind of ink but blue, in all that time."
His manner convinced the lawyer of the bank that it was of no use to go to trial with such testimony against the bank, and he very frankly said so; and that he should advise immediate settlement, which he did; and old Mr. Brown recovered his whole deposit, with interest from the time he brought suit, and with sundry "costs."
But both he and Mrs. Brown declared that they felt no better after the recovery of the money, for, after the struggle to obtain it was passed, and the excitement was over, the heartless conduct of Roberts seemed to oppress them only the more, and Mr. Brown, after a year or two, pined away and died. Mrs. Brown is still living at this writing, an unhappy woman, when I last saw her.
As for Roberts, it is believed that he is leading a miserable life in the mining districts of California, under the name of William Simpson; but this is a conjecture, founded on testimony hardly sufficient to be relied on.
Thus were wrecked Roberts's bright hopes, and the happiness of his faithful old adopted parents. Playing cards "for fun," at first, not unfrequently leads to disastrous, deplorable, ends—to unalterable wretchedness.