“‘Bernandino Marquete, did you steal the pickaxe?’
“‘No, Señor.’
“‘Casimiro Chambi, did you?’
“‘No, Señor.’
“And so on through the whole list with the same profitless result.
“The Indians, like the lower class of Irish, preserve inviolable secrecy respecting their own concerns; an informer is looked upon as a wretch unworthy to live among honest men, or if permitted to live is loathed as a demon. Assured, therefore, that I should never succeed in detecting the exact thief, although we all well knew he was one of the party present, I proceeded to judgment upon all of them.
“‘Know, then, hermanos mios, (dear brothers,) that my sentence is this; that the major-domo do now, immediately, and on the spot, put into his hat as many grains of mais as there are of you here present; that those grains shall be all white save one, which shall be black; and he who draws that black grain shall pay for a new pickaxe.’
“Here consternation became general and evident, but, from the natural darkness of the Indian complexion, it was impossible to discover the delinquent from any change produced on his countenance by the inward workings of his mind.
“‘Now, señor major-domo, shake your hat well—shake it! I say, that no suspicion of partiality may be entertained. Let each man in succession put his hand in and take one grain of mais, then withdraw it, taking care to keep his hand shut, and not to open it until ordered so to do.’
“This being done, they all stood before me with their right arms stretched out at full length, and the hand firmly closed.