longer than the others next morning had been the thief. Next morning he
again drew up his troops. The sticks were mustered by Quiroga himself. Not
one had grown since the previous day; but there was one which was shorter
than the rest. With a terrible roar, Quiroga seized the trembling Gaucho
to whom the stick belonged. "Thou art the thief!" he exclaimed. It was so;
the fellow had cut off a portion of the wood, hoping thus to escape
detection by its growth![3]--

[Footnote 3: Since the above was written, we have heard of the adoption of
an expedient identical with that of Quiroga, under similar circumstances,
and with the same result. The detector was, however, an English seaman,
now captain of a well-known steam-vessel, who forming part of a crew one
of whom had lost a sum of money, broke off ten twigs of equal length from
a broom, and distributed them among his shipmates, with the same
observation as was used by the Argentine chief. Two hours later he
examined them, and found that the negro steward had _shortened_ his
allotted twig. The money was restored.--The coincidence is instructive.]

Another time, one of his soldiers had been robbed of some trappings, and
no trace of the thief could be discovered. Quiroga ordered the detachment
to file past him, one by one. He stood, himself, with folded arms and
terrible eyes, perusing each man as he passed. At length he darted
forward, pounced upon one of the soldiers, and shouted, "Where is the
_montura_?" "In yonder thicket!" stammered out the self-convicted thief.
"Four musketeers this way!" and the commander was not out of sight before
the wretched Gaucho was a corpse. In these instinctive qualities, so awful
to untutored minds, lay the secret of the power of Quiroga,--and of how
many others of the world's most famous names!

Already in 1825 he was recognized as a lawful authority by the government