"Do you think you could get an old-fashioned pin like that?" Boswell was asking. "You know something about jewelry; don't you?"
"Of a surety, senor. But this would be hard to duplicate. It is very old."
"I know, but I want one like that, or as near it as possible. Can't you get one the same place you got that?"
"No, senor, that was the only one there was, and when I sell him to you for your respected mother I regret that I can get no more of him."
"Where did you get that?" asked Boswell, as he took back from the Mexican what Tom could now see was some sort of breastpin.
"Why do you ask, senor?" retorted the man, quickly.
"Oh, nothing special. Why, you act as though you thought that I was going to accuse you of stealing it."
"Never, senor!" exclaimed the man quickly. "I get this from a friend, and I sell it to you for very little more than I paid."
"Oh, it was cheap enough," went on the lad. "Tm not kicking. Only I'd like to get another. I knew mother would like this, and she did. She loves old-fashioned things."
"And you want another for one who also loves of the time that is past—is that it, senor?"
