“Hope you make out all right with your town,” said Teeters politely as, ignoring his employer’s instructions, he turned his horse’s head in a direction of his own choosing.
“No doubt about it,” replied the Major, briskly, gathering up the lines and bringing the stub of a whip down with a thwack upon each back impartially. “S'long!” He waved it at the girl and sheepherder. “I trust you’ll find a location to suit you.”
“Pardner,” said Mormon Joe suddenly, when the Major was a blur in a cloud of dust and the horsemen were specks in the distance, “this looks like home to me somehow. There ought to be great sheep feed over there in the foothills and summer range in the mountains. What do you think of it?”
“Oh—goody!” the girl cried eagerly. “Isn’t it funny, I was hoping you’d say that.”
He looked at her quizzically.
“Tired of trailing sheep, Katie, or do you think you might have company?”
She flushed in confusion, but admitted honestly:
“Both, maybe.”