"Of course you cut off the corner, and didn't go right round by the hut?" said Rigden, riding up; and the jackeroo felt justified in speaking strictly for himself; and thought it so like Miss Bethune not to compromise him by saying how near to the hut they had been: for Moya said nothing at all.
"And now you shall see a count-out," cried Rigden, in better spirits than ever, "as soon as we've boxed the mobs."
"Boxed them!" cried Moya. "Where?"
"Joined them, I mean. To think of your coming mustering of your own accord, Moya!"
His voice had fallen; she did not lower hers.
"It's one of the most interesting days I ever had," she informed all within hearing; "now let me see the end of it, and I'll go back happy."
The adjective was not convincing, but Rigden would not let it dishearten him. The very fact of her presence was the end of his despair.
"I met one of our rabbiters, and arranged for tea at his tent," he said. "He little expects a lady, but you'll have to come."
The prospect had material attractions which Moya was much too honest to deny. "Then make haste and count!" was what she said.
And that followed which appealed to Moya more than all that had gone before. The gate gaped wide, and Rigden on foot put his back to one post. The rest kept their saddles, and began gently rounding up the mob, till it formed a pear-shaped island of consolidated wool, with the headland stretching almost to Rigden's feet. He turned and beckoned to the jackeroo.