When their verdict had
been inspected by the judge it was given to the prothonotary to read.
He faced the jury, saying:--
"Gentlemen of the jury, listen to your verdict as the court has it
recorded. In the case wherein Simon Craft, guardian of the estate
of Ralph Burnham, a minor, is plaintiff, and Margaret Burnham,
administrator of the estate of Robert Burnham, deceased, is defendant,
you say you find for the defendant, and that the boy Ralph is _not_
the son of Robert Burnham. So say you all?"
The jury nodded assent, and the verdict was filed. That settled it.
Craft and Sharpman were beaten.
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.
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