"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. "That Edward Rodgers turned his expert knowledge of handwriting and his skillful penmanship to good account--" calmly. "You mean--" "Jake told my husband that Edward Rodgers examined the spurious will when it was first offered for probate and discovered that it was a forgery. Keeping his knowledge to himself, Mr. Rodgers communicated with Colonel Holt's nephew and, for a consideration, drew up the will leaving all Colonel Holt's fortune to the nephew--" "Oh, come," Mitchell's smile was skeptical. "The nephew, as next of kin, would have inherited the property when the first will was proven a forgery; for in that event Colonel Holt died intestate." "But there was another relative who should have shared Colonel Holt's fortune in case the Colonel died without leaving a will," she explained. "Oh!" "Thus, to inherit his uncle's wealth the nephew had to produce a will in his favor," she went on. "It was clever to present a second spurious will under the protection, you might say, of a detected forged will around which interest centered. As far as I know, the second will was so cleverly drawn that it never aroused suspicion." "And thus the nephew inherited his uncle's money." Mitchell stroked his chin thoughtfully. "What was Gentleman Jake's object in telling this--" he hesitated, torn between a sense of politeness and unbelief, "this story to your husband?" "Jake said that he confided in him hoping that Mr. Parsons could catch Edward Rodgers tripping some day and send him to the 'pen,'" she replied. "Did your husband place any faith in Jake's yarn?" he asked. "A cornered crook, like a cornered cat, will fight--and lie." "On his death-bed?" She shook her head. "I think not. What had Jake to gain then?" "Well, did your husband take any steps in exposing the second will?" asked Mitchell. "My husband," her expression altered to one of deep sadness, "was killed in an automobile accident shortly after." "Oh," Mitchell coughed slightly to cover his embarrassment. "Oh."