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He had scarcely reached the beach when a tropical storm swept across the waters. At daybreak the Jennie Slack was no longer in sight. Neither schooner nor owner was ever seen again. Robert Wallace was picked up several days later by a Mexican sheepherder. In time he worked his way back to San Francisco. At the completion of the Union Pacific Railroad he left California for the South.
It's about as bad as being a sheepherder, only you won't have any sheep for company. Up on Mount Hough you'll have to live in a little glass house about the size of this room, and do your cooking on an oil stove. Your work will be watching your district for fires, and reporting them here by phone. There's a man up there now, but he doesn't want to stay.
"Can't say I have," replied Toomey in a tone that made the Major flush as he shook the extended hand without warmth. To cover his confusion, the Major turned to the sheepherder whose soft brown eyes held an amused look. "Er Joe I'll make you acquainted with Mr. Jasper Toomey, one of our leadin' stockmen in these parts."
"So she grew up out there in the hills without any friends or social life," Prentiss commented, musingly. "There was always a camptender and a sheepherder or two about," Toomey answered with slurring significance. Prentiss brushed the ashes from his cigar.
My experience, though, is that it's right hard to shake a horse to pieces. Pinto, he stood it all right. And say, he got so gentle, with that tall blinder between his eyes, that he'd 'a' followed off a sheepherder. "All this time we was throwin' oats a-plenty into Pinto, rubbin' his legs down, and gettin' him used to a saddle a little bit lighter than a regular cow saddle.
Some distance beyond the flock, or where the flock had been, for the sheep were now rushing across the plain, was a two-horse, canvas-topped wagon, with a stove-pipe protruding through the top at the back. For your sheepherder does not sleep on the ground like the cowboy, but prefers a sheltering wagon. When the men reached this shelter, there was no one in sight.
It was too good to be real, it seemed to him. Still, if by any good luck it were real, he hated to think what would happen if they ever found out the truth. He eased the clothing cautiously away from his smarting back, and stared hard into a coulee. "It was likely some sheepherder gone clean nutty," mused Irish.
Mormon Joe shrugged a shoulder as he walked off. Walter Scales of the Emporium dashed into the street and recovered the laundry with an apologetic air as though he were somehow responsible for the act. "You have to make allowances for the rough characters that swarm into a new country," he said, as he delivered the bundle himself. "I'll break that pauper sheepherder before I quit!"
That was the way it looked to John Mackenzie the morning he set out for Poison Creek to hunt up Tim Sullivan and strike him for a job. Against the conventions of the country, he had struck out on foot. That also had been reasoned out in a cool and calculative way. A sheepherder had no use for a horse, in the first place.
"I shall leave Barker to look after your wants, but you won't really need him. There isn't a sheepherder, or any of the Moran gang, between here and Crawling Water. The fighting will all be in town, thank goodness." At the word "fighting" Dorothy caught her breath sharply, too proud to urge him against his duty and yet afraid for him.
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