"I should value that button above all things," said Win simply, "if you really wish me to have it. Only it seems as though Mr. Max had done much more toward solving the mystery."
"I merely followed the lead you gave me," said Max, who was looking at him with a very friendly expression. "You played a pretty fine game yourself, Win."
"As for that," said the Colonel smiling, "Maxfield may have a button too, if he cares for it."
"Thank you, Uncle Dick," Max replied promptly. "I do value it, but perhaps for the present, it would better stop with the others."
As Max spoke, he looked not at the Colonel but at Constance, leaning against the table beside him. Something in their attitude struck Win's always acute perception. For the first time he doubted whether the young people of the Manor had been as genuinely absorbed in that search as he supposed. About Max, half-sitting on the corner of the study table, about Connie, with her hands loosely clasped before her, there was a certain air of quiet detachment, as of those who politely look on at some interesting comedy, but who, as soon as courtesy permits, will return to affairs of more importance.
"You need not have the least scruple about accepting it, Win," the Colonel went on. "We hope this will not be your last visit to the island, but in any case, whenever you look at that old relic, you will have to give us a thought as well."
Win turned the tarnished button on his palm. Yes, the sight of it would always bring back memories of the green lanes, the red cliffs, the turquoise sea of Jersey, not least the hours in the library, the Spanish chest and the Lisles of Laurel Manor.
* * * * *
AFTERWORD
After the story was finished and the characters were going away, Max and Connie turned back.