[Roads] Correct letter signature

src/epub/text/chapter-12.xhtml

@@ -101,8 +101,8 @@
 				<p>I hear there’s one of Uncle Sam’s grayhounds going through you, and that means that we’ll catch him inside of a couple of hours, maybe. Now, I want you to do something for me. We’ve got just $2,200 in the bank, and the law requires that we have $20,000. I let Ross and Fisher have $18,000 late yesterday afternoon to buy up that Gibson bunch of cattle. They’ll realise $40,000 in less than thirty days on the transaction, but that won’t make my cash on hand look any prettier to that bank examiner. Now, I can’t show him those notes, for they’re just plain notes of hand without any security in sight, but you know very well that Pink Ross and Jim Fisher are two of the finest white men God ever made, and they’ll do the square thing. You remember Jim Fisher⁠—he was the one who shot that faro dealer in El Paso. I wired Sam Bradshaw’s bank to send me $20,000, and it will get in on the narrow-gauge at 10.35. You can’t let a bank examiner in to count $2,200 and close your doors. Tom, you hold that examiner. Hold him. Hold him if you have to rope him and sit on his head. Watch our front window after the narrow-gauge gets in, and when we’ve got the cash inside we’ll pull down the shade for a signal. Don’t turn him loose till then. I’m counting on you, Tom.</p>
 				<footer>
 					<p epub:type="valediction">Your Old Pard,</p>
-					<p epub:type="z3998:signature">Bob Buckly</p>
-					<p>Prest. Stockmen’s National</p>
+					<p epub:type="z3998:signature">Bob Buckley</p>
+					<p><i>Prest. Stockmen’s National</i></p>
 				</footer>
 			</blockquote>
 			<p>The major began to tear the note into small pieces and throw them into his waste basket. He gave a satisfied little chuckle as he did so.</p>