Watson, who was riding in the vicinity of the ranch, eager to approach it, and yet fearful of arousing Celinda’s resentment by his presence, also saw don Rojas pass by, going in the direction of La Presa.
This strengthened his courage. Celinda then was alone at the ranch, and he could invent some pretext for going to see her.... But then he lost heart again.... He couldn’t stand having Cachafaz come out as on the day before and tell him that Celinda would not see him. No, he preferred roaming about over the plains ... and perhaps Celinda, bored by her solitude, would come out and get on her horse....
He felt disposed to wait at least until sundown. As was his habit he carried a few eatables in one of his saddle bags. But for the time being he had quite forgotten that human beings are born with the mortal infirmity of hunger. Other matters seemed far more important to him at the moment.
Meanwhile, his friend Robledo was wandering along the main street of La Presa, head down, absorbed by his reflections. He had just stopped in at his house. Torre Bianca was still not there. His breakfast had waited for him in vain. Where could he be?
He heard someone calling to him from the middle of the street and looked up. The rancher Rojas was talking excitedly to the comisario, who looked amazed, then bewildered. Robledo walked towards them.
“Someone came to my ranch this morning to tell me that the comisario wanted to see me and return the cow that was stolen from me three days ago.... And now don Roque says he never sent any such message, and doesn’t know anything about this business. Did you ever hear the like? Who could the fellow be who brought the message?... I’d like to show him what I think of his joke!”
Robledo listened abstractedly for a few minutes, trying to feign a decent amount of interest. Then he went on his way through the town. For the moment he was entirely pre-occupied with thoughts of his friend. Every time he saw a man in the distance he thought it must be Torre Bianca.
“It’s too bad that Watson went away so early this morning,” he thought. “If he were here he would help me look for Federico.”
But Watson, far away on the desert, torn between his desire to see Celinda and his fear of being harshly dismissed by her, was little by little approaching the ranch as he rode around it in wide circles. When, however, he reached the palisades of the Rojas property, he was again torn by indecision. How was he to explain his presence on the ranch grounds when Flor de Rio Negro had ordered him never to come there again?
But the sight of a gate swinging wide open gave him courage.