d was that Angus Mackay had evidence
which proved his wife's title to the coal lands. But Braden thought that
he, Garland, had it. Mackay, also, had evidence of his, Garland's old
forgery. He must get that back. As to Braden's misapprehension he must
turn that to his own advantage. Braden, in his opinion, was simply
bluffing as to the nonimportance of the deeds. If he could get hold of
them he could hold Braden up. Also he would knock Mackay out of a very
promising property. But he must lose no time. It was a wonder Mackay had
not taken some action already.

"Keep your shirt on," he advised Braden. "Don't try to bluff me. You
know if Mackay got hold of those papers it would raise the devil with
you. They show who really owns the property."

"They are a mistake," Mr. Braden returned. "I mean they were drawn by
mistake. French gave the girl her deeds."

Garland grinned. "Suppose he had given her the others, where would you
be?"

"Suppose nothing of the sort!" Mr. Braden snapped. "I tell you they're
no good. You might as well give them back to me."

"What do you want them for--if they're no good?" Garland grinned.

"I'll give you a hundred dollars for them."

Garland merely laughed, and though Mr. Braden increased his offer to
five hundred it was not accepted. He was reluctant to go higher, first,
because it would show Garland that he considered the deeds worth real
money; and second, because Garland did not seem anxious to press his
blackmail. The latter circumstance puzzled Mr. Braden. What was Garland
up to, anyway? He did not threaten to deal with Mackay, after that
single reference to him. Mr. Braden knew that he hated Angus, and
preferably would not deal with him. And so it was his own play to wait
and let the next suggestion come from Garland. There, temporarily, the
matter rested, because neither was in a position to press it to a
finish.

But Mr. Braden, though he had what so far as he could see was a
perfectly good legal defense, experienced certain inward qualms. There
was always the possibility that something might go wrong with a defense,
if it came to that. That old Riley, for instance, who looked like a
scarred Airedale, would enjoy baiting him. He might find some flaw, some
kink of law, which might be embarrassing. Mr. Braden knew that his nerve
was not of the sort to stand a grueling by skilled counsel, especially
if he slipped once or twice. His would be almost the sole evidence.
There was comfo