"You are in one of the sheep-camps. I'm Eleanor Loring."
"Sheep-camp? Gee Gosh! Did you stop me?"
"Yes. I was just riding into camp when you--er--arrived. I headed the
steer back and Fernando cut the rope."
"Thanks, miss. And Fernando is wise to his business, all right."
"Can you sit up now?" she asked.
"Ow! I guess I can. That part of me wasn't expectin' to be moved
sudden-like. How'd I get under these trees?"
"Fernando carried you."
"Well, little old Fernando is some carrier. Where is he? I wouldn't
mind shakin' hands with that gent."
"He's out after the sheep. The steer stampeded them."
"Well, miss, speakin' from me heart--that there steer was no lady. I
thought she was till I roped him. I was mistook serious."
"He might have killed you. Let me help you up."
Sundown had been endeavoring to get to his feet. Finally he rose and
leaned against a tree. Fortunately for him his course had been over a
stretch of yielding bunch-grass, and not, as might have been the case,
over the ragged tufa. As it was his shirt hung from his back in
shreds, and he felt that his overalls were not all that their name
implied.
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