"Hold on a minute! Don't be so impatient. Has your father mentioned losing a sleeve button?" "No," Brandon was compelled to admit. "Then you may be mistaken." "I know I can't be mistaken. Haven't I seen the sleeve button plenty of times?" "Very likely, but it may belong to some one else, after all." "Did you pick up the other also?" asked Brandon. "No." "Where did you pick it up?" "I don't think it necessary to tell you." "You will have to tell my father." "That is just what I am willing to do. If you will find out whether your father has lost such a button, and will let me know, I will go and see him about it, and answer any questions he may choose to ask about where I found it." "It will be just the same if you give it to me." "Excuse me, Brandon, but I prefer to surrender it to your father." "That's fair enough, Brandon," said a boy who had listened to this conversation. "I suppose Dean wants to sell it for old gold," said Brandon insolently. "You needn't trouble yourself about supposing," said Dean coolly. "If I find the sleeve button belongs to your father, I shall be perfectly willing to give it up to him." "Because you will have to." "Put it that way if you want to. I don't care to keep what doesn't belong to me." "How long have you had the sleeve button?" "About a week." When Brandon went home from school he lost no time in reporting the matter to his father. "Papa," he said, "Dean Dunham's got a sleeve button of yours." "What!" exclaimed Squire Bates nervously. "One of the sleeve buttons marked 'B.' Did you know you had lost one of them?" "No. So—the Dunham boy has got it?" "Yes; he showed it to me at recess." "Where did he say he got it?" asked Squire Bates, with a disturbed look. "He wouldn't tell me. I asked him, but he said he wouldn't tell any one but you; and, though I told him I knew it was yours, he wouldn't give it to me." "The boy did right," said Squire Bates, recovering his self-possession. "Perhaps it isn't mine." "But I know it is yours, papa!" persisted Brandon. "Very well! You may ask Dean Dunham to bring it to me. I can soon decide that point." "This is awkward!" said the squire to himself, as he paced the room after Brandon had left his presence. "I can guess where the boy found the button. I must put him off the track by as plausible an explanation as I can devise." CHAPTER XI. DEAN RECEIVES A GIFT. My father says you are to call with the sleeve button, Dean Dunham, said Brandon Bates, in an imperious tone. "Very well; I shall be happy to oblige him," answered Dean, with a smile. "I will call this evening if you think he will be at home." "Yes, he will be at home. And, I say, you'd better tell him the truth." "I always do. I judge from your caution that you don't." "If you're going to talk to me, Dean Dunham," said Brandon, scowling, "you'd better be respectful." "Then you must deserve my respect." The colloquy was interrupted by the ringing of the school bell.