“Not more than ten or twelve miles. I could ride that every day.”
“It’s a bargain then, if I get on,” said he.
“It’s a bargain,” nodded Joan, giving him her hand to bind it, with great earnestness in her eyes.
CHAPTER V
TIM SULLIVAN
“Yes, they call us flockmasters in the reports of the Wool Growers’ Association, and in the papers and magazines, but we’re nothing but sheepmen, and that’s all you can make out of us.”
Tim Sullivan spoke without humor when he made this correction in the name of his calling, sitting with his back to a haycock, eating his dinner in the sun. Mackenzie accepted the correction with a nod of understanding, sparing his words.
“So you want to be a flockmaster?” said Tim. “Well, there’s worse callin’s a man, especially a young man, could take up. What put it in your head to tramp off up here to see me? Couldn’t some of them sheepmen down at Jasper use you?”