She stopped abruptly, her eyes widened and her lips parted in astonishment.
"Hughie!" She went forward swiftly, her eyes shining with the glad welcome he remembered and all her old-time impetuosity of manner. Then she checked herself as suddenly. She did not withdraw the hand she had extended, but the smile froze on her lips and all the warmth went out of her greeting. She added formally, "I wasn't expecting to see any one I knew--you surprised me."
Wondering at her change of manner, he laughed as he shook hands with her.
"I hoped to--it's one of the things I've been looking forward to."
Beth Rathburn was looking, not at Kate, but at Disston, when he introduced them; she could not remember when she had seen him so animated, so genuinely glad.
"I've been enormously interested--however do you do it?" Miss Rathburn said in her cool drawl, while she studied Kate's face curiously.
"It's my business," Kate replied simply, regarding her with equal interest.
"And you live out here by yourself, without any other woman? Aren't you lonely?"
"I'm too busy."
"You work with the men--just like one of them?"
"Just like a man," Kate repeated evenly.
"It is quite--quite wonderful!" Beth subtly conveyed the impression that on the contrary she thought it was dreadful.
Kate drew back her head a little and looked at her visitor.
"Is it?" coolly.
"And Hugh never has told me a word about you--he's been so reticent." She laid her finger tips upon his arm in proprietory fashion while a sly malice shone through the mischievousness of her smile.
Disston colored.
Kate replied ironically: "Perhaps he is one of those who do not boast of their acquaintance with sheepherders."
"Kate!" he protested vigorously.
She regarded him with a faint inscrutable smile until Bowers interrupted: "How many bells shall I put on them yearlin's?"
"One in fifty; and cut those five wethers out of the ewe herd. Catch those yearling ewes with the wether earmark and change to the shoe-string."
"What do you want done with that feller in the pen?"
"Saw his horn off and I'll throw him into the buck herd later."
"Where'll Oleson hold his sheep?"
"Well up the creek; and if he lets them mix again--"
"He says he can't do nothin' without a dog," Bowers ventured.
"Then he'd better quit right now--you can tell him." Kate's voice was curt, incisive, her tone final. "He can't use a dog on these Rambouillets--they're high-strung, nervous, different from the merinos. Anyway, I won't have it." She swung about to indicate that the conversation was ended.
"That's all Greek to me. Do you understand it, Hugh?" Miss Rathburn's lofty drawl, her faintly patronizing manner, all indicated amusement.