"Of course I'm sure. My uncle gave them to me before he died."
Turkey was crestfallen. She ought to know. Then what the dickens was the junk he had in his pocket? He produced the deeds and handed them to her.
"Well, all I know is that these look like deeds to your father. I thought you ought to have 'em, so I brought 'em along."
She regarded the papers with a puzzled frown.
"Why they seem just the same as the others. Why should there be two sets of deeds?"
"Search me," Turkey admitted. "They're the same, are they?"
"I think so. I mean they look the same, signatures and all." She read the description of the property. "A thousand acres. Yes, that's the same. Oh, wait! 'Beginning at a point ... and thence westerly—'" Her forehead wrinkled in an effort of recollection. "Why, Turkey, they aren't! I mean it's the same number of acres, but this puts my east corner further west. I'm almost sure—Oh!"
"What's the matter?" Turkey asked, for she was staring wide-eyed.
"Oh, don't you see—but of course you wouldn't because you don't know—but if these deeds are real—I mean if they are the real deeds—I own the land which Mr. Braden claims—the coal land!"
The comment which burst from the lips of the startled Turkey went unreproved.