"If I'm not mistaken here is someone who'll go to the root of the matter without much more ado. He'll put things through in a hurry. He'll find the pocket-book or the thief, or he'll know why."
Following the old man's glance, Mr. Page saw an Indian parting the crowd. He was very tall and well-built, and his features were somewhat rugged. An air of authority betokened him a person of some importance.
"It's the Captain," said the old man. "It's Cecilio, the head man of them all. Wait, now, till ye hear him."
The Indian stepped to Mauricio's side.
"As I came through the village," he said, "I heard of the trouble." Then they talked together in their own language. Presently Cecilio went over to Mrs. Minkson.
"Madam," he said, politely in excellent English, "they say a pocket-book has been lost here by you, and that you suspect this boy, Francisco, to be the thief.
"I am the Captain of this village, and when we have sent away this crowd of people, or, at least, made them stand on the outside, we will search the house thoroughly."
"You have no right to search my house," said the missionary. "It has been done already."
"I have a right, and I will use it," he said. "Will you go out, please, my good friends, so that we may not be hindered?"
The people, complying with his request, slowly left the house.