"It is either that you look, or that we do. You will choose. They say that you left it in the hammock. Will you go first to the hammock, please?"
The woman saw determination in the eyes of the Captain. Very slowly she walked to the door and stepped to the ramada, in front of which the crowd still lingered. She lifted the pillow and was about to replace it, protesting loudly, "This is a farce," when it fell to the ground, the open end of the cover facing downward. Out of this end a brown leather pocket-book rolled toward the feet of the spectators.
Quite a tumult of congratulation ensued. Francisco soon became the centre of a sympathetic throng. Mrs. Minkson, very much discomfited, was not one of them. On the contrary, she hurried into the house without a word and closed the door.
Cecilio turned to the spectators and, laying his hand on the shoulder of Francisco, said:
"My good friends, I see that you have not believed this boy a thief. You have seen that the woman, instead of putting the pocket-book under the pillow, placed it by accident in the cover. Some of you who are here know us very well. To others we are strangers. But it is just and right that the strangers should learn what is very well known to all who are our friends; and it is this:
"For more than twenty-five years the Hot Springs have been visited by white people; we have thrown open to them our houses, and we have moved out of them, going elsewhere to live; we have always kept away from them, staying in our own dwellings and going our own ways. That no one can deny. And in all those years, in this village where no door is ever locked, never once has an Indian been known to enter a house where the people were not—not once has anything been stolen by an Indian. That, my friends, can be proved.
"Francisco, this boy here, is without father and mother, but he has been always good, always faithful, always industrious, always honest. And to-day he has not lost his good name. Soon we Indians must leave our homes, soon we must be cast out of the place of our fathers; but, at least, if it be God's will thus to chastise us, let it not be said at the end what has never been said of us—that we are thieves or robbers."
With a courteous wave of the hand, he passed through the crowd and quickly remounted his horse, a fine animal, on which he sat like a cavalier of old. As he rode away there arose a cheer from the crowd for "Captain Cecilio."
The people—whites and Indians—gathered round Francisco, and nearly everybody shook his hand. The boy received their good wishes quietly but gratefully, with the natural dignity of his race. After many a pause on the road he returned to the tent with Mr. Page and Mauricio. The good news had preceded them, and the children shouted for joy; Walter loudly expressed his belief that the whole thing had been a plot devised by the missionary for the ruin of their friend. For this he was immediately reproved by his parents for rash judgment and want of charity, but subsided only after several reminders.
Francisco reported the next day that Mrs. Minkson had apologized to him for her suspicions, which action showed her to be possessed of a Christian spirit, even though mistaken zeal had carried her out of her own province. The boy William remained implacable to the end.