“Died before his term was up,” Mitchell completed the sentence for her.
“But before he died he sent for my husband,” Mrs. Parsons paused, then spoke more rapidly. “Jake Brown trusted my husband: he had stood by him and aided in his defense. On his death-bed Jake confessed—”
“That his Holt will was a forgery,” interrupted Mitchell, pleased that he could again piece out her story and thereby prove his recollection of the case.
“That was his public confession,” Mrs. Parsons lowered her voice. “What he told my husband under pledge of secrecy was that the second will was also a forgery.”
“Second will?” sharply. “You mean the will produced by the nephew?”
“Exactly so.”
“Well, good gracious!” Mitchell rubbed his head, perplexed in mind. “Why wasn’t it proven a forgery then?”
“Because its legality was never questioned. You will recall that Colonel Holt’s nephew produced letters and documents to prove his claim, and—” with a quiet smile—“every one’s attention was centered on Jake Brown and the will he fostered. Jake knew his will was a forgery and his entire effort was to evade the law. It was not until he was serving his sentence that Jake’s suspicions were aroused, and it was one of his fellow convicts who gave him the tip.”
“And what was the tip?” asked Mitchell, as she paused.