"It is a proud day for you, Sandy!" cried José.
"I'm no pretending I ain't pleased," replied Sandy, beaming on the Mexican, "but dinna think I'm proud. If I do my work well pride may come; still, it's no time for it now."
"Of course you'll do it well—how could you help it! It is in your blood," José declared. "You have your father's own knack about the flocks. It is the real love for herding—a kind of part of you, it seems."
"I get it from generations of shepherds who have tended the black-faced sheep among the broom and the heather on the hills of Scotland, I doubt not," answered Sandy.
"Well, it stands you in good stead, however you come by it," José called over his shoulder as he moved off toward the pen where his sheep were.
"I hope it may stand me in good stead in the future, Don," Sandy said gravely to the boy beside him.
"I am sure it will. Isn't it splendid, Sandy, to see the herders all so pleased and ready to follow out your orders? I think nothing could have made me happier than to have you put in to manage the ranch."
"I'm verra, verra glad myself, laddie. It is a thing I never dared hope for, and I would not have wanted to take the job from Thornton. But since he is going East and is to be well provided for it makes everything right."
"And yet you telegraphed my father to come here, Sandy."
It was the first time the telegram had ever been mentioned between them.