As the story goes, from this moment the fortunes of Laguna changed. The sick became well, the crops were good, and a wholly different atmosphere prevailed. But now no one was willing to part with the blessed talisman. The Ácomas, weary of waiting for the return of the picture, sent messengers to ask the reason for the delay. They got no satisfaction. Angered by such bad faith, there was talk of an immediate raid upon Laguna. The parish priest, Fray Mariano de Jesús López, the last Franciscan ever to be in charge of the Ácoma mission, averted war. He counselled that a conclave be held of the _principales_ of both pueblos and the cause of the trouble discussed. The conference met. After a solemn mass it was agreed that they should draw lots for the picture. No one suggested that St. Joseph might not approve of gambling. Twelve ballots were prepared, eleven of which were blank, and on the twelfth was a rude sketch of San José. All twelve were shaken up in a jar, and one little girl from each of the two pueblos was chosen to do the drawing. On the fifth drawing the Ácoma maiden drew the saint. “So,” said the Father, “God has decided in favor of Ácoma.” Ácoma was happy, but Laguna was not, and one morning when the people went to pray before their saint in the great Ácoma church, lo! he was not there. Terror, dismay, and wrathful vengeance filled the hearts of all Ácoma. By some ruse Laguna had stolen the patron saint. War assuredly would have resulted had not Fray Mariano once more found a way out. Ácoma ere this had passed from Spain to Mexico and from Mexico to Uncle Sam. Father López counselled that the whole matter should be taken to the United States court at Santa Fé. His advice was followed. The first decision was made in favor of Ácoma. Laguna appealed the case to the Supreme Court. In 1857 Judge Benedict affirmed the original decision in the following words: The history of this painting, its obscure origin, its age, and the fierce contest which these two Indian pueblos have carried on, bespeak the inappreciable value which is placed upon it. The intrinsic value of the oil, paint and cloth of which San José is represented to the senses, it had been admitted in argument, probably would not exceed twenty-five cents; but this seemingly worthless painting has well-nigh cost these two pueblos a bloody and cruel struggle, and had it not been for weakness on the part of one of the pueblos, its history might have been written in blood.[99] Rejoiced at this victory, the men of Ácoma started for Laguna to recover their picture. Even to-day, says James, when they can be induced to tell the tale, they affirm that halfway “they met San José with his face turned homeward.” He had already heard of the decision and started alone, but being weary he had stopped beneath a tree to rest, and there was met “by his happy people going to fetch him home.”