"It looks very much like one I once owned," said the squire, taking it in his hand. "Did you find the mate to it?"
"No," answered Dean, in surprise. "Is the other button lost also?"
"Yes," said Squire Bates. "By the by, where did you find it?"
"Only a few feet from the spot where my uncle was robbed—in the woods," answered Dean, scrutinizing the face of the lawyer closely as he spoke. But Squire Bates was prepared for this disclosure, and betrayed neither surprise nor confusion.
"Indeed!" he said. "This is most interesting. When did you find it?"
"On the day afterwards."
"It must have been dropped by the person who robbed your uncle, then?"
"That is just what I thought," said Dean, much surprised by this apparent confession on the part of the squire.
"I must now tell you that the sleeve buttons, with a small sum of money, mysteriously disappeared about that time," the squire continued, in a confidential manner. "I am inclined to attribute their loss to a tramp who was seen prowling round my house the day before your uncle's misfortune. It looks as if both robberies were by the same person."
Dean stared at the squire in amazement. He had not foreseen this crafty explanation, and though he utterly disbelieved in its truth, he saw no way of discrediting it. The bomb which he anticipated exploding to the squire's utter confusion in the light of this statement appeared a very innocent and harmless one indeed. He kept silent, but the cunning squire with pleasure noted his discomfiture.