When he drew near the main building, Cachafaz, made aware of his arrival by the barking of the dogs as they leapt in front of the horse’s hoofs, and snapped at the horseman’s legs, came out to meet him. With sharp cries the boy called off the dogs and then listened with the gravity of a grown man to what the gaucho had to say.
But scarcely was the message delivered when Cachafaz, with shouts of joy, rushed into the ranch house, quite unmindful of the messenger.
Don Carlos was in the parlor having his tenth gourdful of mate that morning. Celinda, in feminine attire, sat in a cane armchair, absorbed apparently by her own melancholy thoughts.
“Master,” cried the little half-breed, bursting in like a small whirlwind, “the comisario has just sent word that you are to go at once to the pueblo. They have caught the thief who stole our heifer!”
Pleased by this news, the rancher followed Cachafaz out of the room, taking with him his calabashful of mate and continuing to sip it through the bombilla as he walked. He wanted to learn some of the details of this capture from the messenger who had come in such hot haste to inform him of it.
But on stepping outside his front door, he was perplexed at discovering that the horseman had disappeared. Cachafaz ran shouting around the buildings and through the various corrals without being able to discover the messenger. Finally, with a shrug, don Rojas concluded that the comisario must have charged some gaucho who was riding through that section of the country to deliver the message as he went by. After all it was good news! The fellow probably had a long journey to make and hadn’t wanted to lose any time. Nor should he lose any either! Thereupon don Carlos mounted his horse to go see the commissioner. He would be back for the midday meal, he told Celinda.
Manos Duras and his three companions, lying flat on the ground, saw the rancher go by in the direction of La Presa. Keeping their faces close to the matorral roots, they laughed cynically as they watched him ride away.
“He’s going after the cow we ate yesterday,” commented Piola.
And Manos Duras added, with characteristic impudence,
“We’ll see what he has to say when we have carried off his little heifer.”