"Mr Whyte," said the Alcade, "have you, as procurador, any thing to state?"
"Yes, Alcalde," replied the procurador. "In virtue of my office, I made a search in the place mentioned by Bob Rock, and there found the body of a man who had met his death by a gunshot wound. I also found a belt full of money, and several letters of recommendation to different planters, from which it appears that the man was on his way from Illinois to San Felipe, in order to buy land of Colonel Austin, and to settle in Texas."
The procurador then produced a pair of saddle-bags, out of which he took a leathern belt stuffed with money, which he laid on the table, together with the letters. The judge opened the belt, and counted the money. It amounted to upwards of five hundred dollars, in gold and silver. The procurador then read the letters.
One of the corregidors now announced that Johnny and his mulatto had left their house and fled. He, the corregidor, had sent people in pursuit of them; but as yet there were no tidings of their capture. This piece of intelligence seemed to vex the judge greatly, but he made no remark on it at the time.
"Bob Rock!" cried he.
Bob stepped forward.
"Bob Rock, or by whatever other name you may be known, are you guilty or not guilty of this man's death?"
"Guilty!" replied Bob, in a low tone.
"Gentlemen of the jury, will you be pleased to give your verdict?"
The jury left the room. In ten minutes they returned.