What was his surprise when, as the buggy stopped, he found that its solitary occupant was the man who had been foremost in his thoughts—Squire Bates himself. "What does he want here?" thought Dean. From his post behind the tree he glanced curiously at the new arrival, and watched what he should do. Squire Bates descended from the buggy, and then walked to the very tree under which Adin Dunham had, according to his own account, found himself lying unconscious. Then he walked in different directions around it, peering carefully at the ground, as if in search of something. "He's looking for the button!" thought Dean in growing excitement. Then, as if distrusting his eyes, Squire Bates put on a pair of glasses, and once more resumed his search. But it proved unavailing. "I must have dropped it somewhere else," Dean heard him mutter. "That settles it!" thought our hero. "He means the sleeve button without doubt. My uncle is right after all, but," he added after a pause, "no one would believe the story, I must wait for additional proof. I wonder what the squire would say if he should find me here. Would he look guilty?" Upon the impulse of the moment, not stopping to consider whether he was acting wisely or not, Dean determined to let the squire know that he was present. He did not care to arouse his suspicion, however, by letting him think that he had been watched. He therefore glided swiftly a short distance to the right, and then, showing himself openly, advanced towards the squire, whistling carelessly. Squire Bates turned quickly at the sound, and looked annoyed when he saw who it was that intruded upon him. "You here, Dean Dunham?" he exclaimed. "Oh, it's Squire Bates," said Dean, as if surprised. "Yes, it is I." "And why do you come? It is a long walk from your house." "That's true, but it is the place where Uncle Adin was robbed, and I thought I would come and see if I could discover anything of the money, or anything that belonged to him." "This is the place, then? I thought it might be," said the squire composedly. "I am on my way to Rockmount, and the same idea occurred to me. But it isn't of much use. If your uncle was robbed, the money is far away by this time." "Do you think so?" asked Dean, fixing his eyes attentively on the squire. "Why, it is natural to suppose so. How is your uncle?" "I left him in bed. He was upset by the shock." "How sad! In what condition was he found?" "He seemed bewildered, and hardly conscious where he was." "The effect of the chloroform!" thought the squire. "I have thought, Dean," he said in a confidential tone, "that perhaps he fainted away and fell from the buggy." "But the money was missing." "To be sure! Probably some tramp came along, and finding him unconscious robbed him as he lay powerless." "I thought of that, but if he had fallen from the buggy he would have been bruised." "And he was not?" "There was no sign of hurt or violence, only that he seemed upset by some shock."