Bob said nothing.
“Well, well! I’ve done all I could to make a better man of you—all that was in my power.”
“That you have,” answered Bob, much moved. “God reward you for it!”
I could not help holding out my hand to the worthy judge; and as I did so, I thought I saw a moisture in his eye, which he suppressed, however, and, turning to the breakfast table, bade us sit down. Bob thanked him humbly, but declined, saying that he wished to appear fasting before his offended Creator. The judge insisted, and reasoned with him, and at last he took a chair.
Before we had done breakfast, our friends of the preceding day began to drop in, and some of them joined us at the meal. When they had all taken what they chose, the judge ordered the negroes to clear away, and leave the room. This done, he seated himself at the upper end of the table, with the Ayuntamiento on either side, and Bob facing him.
“Mr Whyte,” said the Alcalde, “have you, as procurador, anything 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, to buy land of Colonel Austin, and 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.