Sarah Dunham put the fifty dollars carefully aside. It seemed strange to her to have so much money in her individual possession. She felt grateful to the squire, if Adin did not. Weeks passed, and Adin Dunham was able to go about his work. But he seemed a changed man. All his ambition and energy seemed to be gone. He was no longer able to do as much work as formerly, and he went about the place in a listless manner, which made Dean and his aunt feel anxious. Whenever he caught sight of the squire he hurried away, apparently anxious to avoid him. Renwick Bates did not appear to take any notice of this silence, but it disturbed him. "He hasn't got over the thought that I robbed him," he said to himself. "Why was I furnished with these wretched tusks? If I had teeth like other people, I should not have been identified. There's one good thing, nobody is likely to share his suspicion. That subscription paper and my large contribution have completely blinded the eyes of people. If he persists in his charge, he will only convince his neighbors that he is a fit subject for an insane asylum." There was one, however, who fully believed his uncle's story, and that was Dean, who also avoided the squire when it was in his power to do so. He still had in his possession the sleeve button that he had found in the wood, but he had not yet shown it to any one. He was considering what to do about it. He had no doubt about its being the property of Squire Bates, and finally he determined to put it to the proof by letting Brandon see it accidentally. He waited for a favorable opportunity. One day when the boys were at recess, and Brandon standing only three feet distant, he plunged his hand into his pocket, and drew out three pennies and the tell-tale sleeve button, showing it so plainly that Brandon couldn't help seeing it. "Where did you get that button?" asked Brandon sharply. "What button?" "The sleeve button marked 'B.'" "I found it," answered Dean composedly. "Where did you find it?" "Why do you feel so much interest in it?" demanded Dean. "I don't know that I am called upon to tell you where I found it." "I believe you stole it!" said Brandon. "Say that again, Brandon Bates, and I'll knock you over!" retorted Dean with spirit. "Do you mean to insult me?" "I have a right to say what I did. That sleeve button belongs to my father." "Are you sure of that?" asked Dean, his face lighting up, for he had made the discovery he desired. "Yes, I am sure of it. I have seen the button plenty of times. Besides, you know B stands for Bates." "It also stands for Bunting," answered Dean. "How do I know but it was lost by Sam Bunting?" Sam Bunting was a poor, ragged, half-witted fellow, who was the good-natured butt of the village people. "There's nothing to joke about, Dean Dunham," said Brandon angrily. "I tell you the sleeve button belongs to my father. Give it to me right away!"