Dad and Rabbit went away presently to assemble the sheep for the night, and Tim let his Irish tongue wag as 247 it would. He was in lively and generous mood, making a joke of the mingling of the flocks which had come so dearly to Mackenzie’s account. He bore himself like a man who had gained something, indeed, and that was the interpretation put on it by Mackenzie.
Tim led up to what he had come to discuss presently, beaming with stew and satisfaction when he spoke of Joan.
“Of course you understand, John, I don’t want you to think it was any slam on you that I took Joan off the range and made her stop takin’ her book lessons from you. That girl got too fresh with me, denyin’ my authority to marry her to the man I’ve picked.”
Mackenzie nodded, a great warmth of understanding glowing in his breast.
“But I don’t want you to feel that it was any reflection on your ability as a teacher, you understand, John; I don’t want you to look at it that way at all.”
“Not at all,” Mackenzie echoed, quite sincerely.
“You could ’a’ had her, for all the difference it was to me, if I hadn’t made that deal with Reid. A man’s got to stick to his word, you know, lad, and not have it thwarted by any little bobbin of a girl. I’d as soon you’d have one of my girls as any man I know, John.”
“Thanks.”
“Of course I could see how it might turn out between you and Joan if she kept on ridin’ over to have lessons from you every day. You can’t blame Earl if he saw it the same way, lad.”
“She isn’t his yet,” said Mackenzie confidently.