Tom Thornton, however, did not seem to agree with Sandy's estimate of his employer. The moment he was back from Glen City he sought out Mr. Clark who, with Donald, was sitting before the fire in the barren living-room.
"The clip is off for the East at last, Mr. Clark," he said. "It is likely you will be following it soon yourself now that you have cast your eye over the ranch and found it running all right. Have you come to any decision as to who you'll appoint as manager?"
Thornton glanced keenly at the ranch owner as he put his question.
"I do not think I shall appoint any manager at present, Thornton," replied Mr. Clark slowly. "I am in no haste to return East. Donald and I are enjoying our holiday here tremendously and for a while, at least, I think I shall stay and manage Crescent Ranch myself."
Thornton drew a quick breath.
It was evident that he was amazed and none too well pleased.
"It is hard work, sir—especially when you are not used to it."
"I am accustomed to hard work."
"The men will take advantage of you, sir—if I may be so bold as to say so. They know you were not brought up to sheeping. They will impose on you and shirk their duties."
"I am not afraid, Thornton," was the calm reply. "I have had a chance to test what they would do when they were dipping the sheep. It was as thorough a piece of work as one would wish to see done, and went smoothly as a sled in iced ruts. I never saw better team-work. Sandy directed things most ably."