“You met Miguel this morning?” repeated the girl.
“Yes. Stopped for a chat, then came on. I’ve been doing considerable running around since yesterday.”
Señora Cervantes came up, and Robinson was introduced. Then, grabbing doughnuts in each, hand, Robinson followed Stella around to the wide veranda and with a sigh of relaxation settled down in a comfortable chair at her side.
“Sam was right worried over not hearing from you,” he observed.
“Not hearing?” Estella regarded him with wide eyes. “Why, I wrote only two weeks ago—wrote a long letter and begged him to come up at once if he could! He knew all about the mortgage, and had promised to try and sell the ranch if he could——”
Robinson’s eyes narrowed. “Who posted that letter for you?”
“I gave it to Mr. Buck to mail, as he was going to town.”
“Oh! Well, I guess it got lost in the shuffle somewhere,” said Robinson. “Anyhow, Sam hasn’t heard from you in a month. Anyhow, he sold the ranch.”
“Sold it! Sold this ranch?” The girl stiffened. “For how much? Who to?”
Robinson shook his head. “I dunno, ma’am. Sam, he made me promise not to say a word about it until he could get up here his ownself.”