"Thanks, Fernando. You always say something nice. But I can't let you
get ahead of me. What a pretty scarf. It's just right. Do you wear
it always, Fernando?"

"It is--I know--what the vaquero of the Concho call the 'josh' that you
give me, but I am yet not too old to like it. It is muy pleasure, si!
to be noticed when one is old--by the Señorita of especial."

The girl's dark eyes flashed and she laughed happily. "It's lots of
fun, isn't it--to 'josh'? But I came to see if you needed anything."

"Nothing while still the Señorita is at thees camp."

"Well, you'd better think up something, for I'm going in a minute.
Have to make the rounds. Dad is down with the rheumatism and as cross
as a grizzly. I was glad to get away. And then, there's Madre."

Fernando smiled and nodded. He was not unfamiliar with the patron's
temper when rheumatism obliged him to be inactive. "He say nothing,
the patron--that we cross the sheep to the west of the river, Señorita?"

"No. Not lately. I don't know why he should want to. The feed is
good here."

"I have this morning talk with the vaquero Corlees. He tell me that
the South Fork is dry up."

"John Corliss is not usually interested in our sheep," said the girl.

"No. Of the sheep he knows nothing." And the old herder smiled. "But