“Since nobody aims to introduce us—” he began good-naturedly, extending a hand. “My name is Prouty—Stephen Douglas Prouty. You’ve heard of me, like as not.”
“Can’t say I have,” replied Toomey in a tone that made the Major flush as he shook the extended hand without warmth.
To cover his confusion, the Major turned to the sheepherder whose soft brown eyes held an amused look.
“Er—Joe—I’ll make you acquainted with Mr. Jasper Toomey, one of our leadin’ stockmen in these parts.”
The introduction received from Toomey the barest acknowledgment as he directed his gaze to the grazing sheep.
“Where you taking them?” he asked in a curt tone.
“I really couldn’t tell you yet.”
Toomey glanced at him sharply, attracted by the cultivated tone.
“I wouldn’t advise you to locate here; this is my range.”
“Own it?” inquired the herder mildly.