It was very strange that a solid truth, backed up by abundant and irreproachable evidence, presented under the strict rules of law and the solemn sanction of an oath, should be upset and shattered by a flimsy falsehood told by an unknown adventurer, heard unawares by a listening child, and denied a proper entrance into court. It was strange but it was very true. Yet in that ruin was involved one of the boldest schemes for legal plunder that was ever carried into the courts of Luzerne County. Sharpman felt that a fortune had slipped from his grasp, and that he had lost it by reason of his own credulity and fear. He saw now the mistake he had made in not defying Rhyming Joe. He knew now that the fellow never would have dared to appear in court as a witness. He felt that he had not only lost his money, but that he had come dangerously near to losing what character he had, also. He knew that it was all due to his own fault, and he was humiliated and angry with himself, and bitter toward every one who had sided with the defendant. But if Sharpman's disappointment was great, that of his client was tenfold greater. Simon Craft was in a most unenviable mood. At times, indeed, he grew fairly desperate. The golden bubble that he had been chasing for eight years had burst and vanished. He had told the truth, he had been honest in his statements, he had sought to do the boy and the boy's mother a great favor, and they had turned against him, and the verdict of the jury had placed upon him the stigma of perjury. This was the burden of his complaint. But aside from this he was filled with bitter regret. If he had only closed his bargain with Robert Burnham on the day it had been made! If he had only made his proposition to Mrs. Burnham as he had intended doing, instead of going into this wild scheme with this visionary lawyer! This was his silent sorrow. His misery was deep and apparent. He had grown to be ten years older in a day. This misfortune, he said, bitterly, was the result of trying to be honest and to do good. This was the reward of virtue, these the wages of charity. Tired, at last, of railing at abstract principles of right, he turned his attention to those who had been instrumental in his downfall. The judge, the jury, and the attorney for the defence, all came in for a share of his malignant hatred and abuse. For Mrs. Burnham he had only silent contempt. Her honest desire to have right done had been too apparent from the start. The only fault he had to find with her was that she did not come to his rescue when the tide was turning against him. But against Ralph the old man's wrath and indignation were intense.