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 “‘You do look pretty dusty,’ says he; ‘but our bathing arrangements—’

“‘It’s a drink I want,’ says I, ‘Never mind the dust that’s on the outside.’

“He gets me a dipper of water out of a red jar hanging up, and then goes on:

“‘Do you want work?’

“‘For a time,’ says I. ‘This is a rather quiet section of the country, isn’t it?’

“‘It is,’ says he. ‘Sometimes—so I have been told—one sees no human being pass for weeks at a time. I’ve been here only a month. I bought the ranch from an old settler who wanted to move farther west.’

“‘It suits me,’ says I. ‘Quiet and retirement are good for a man sometimes. And I need a job. I can tend bar, salt mines, lecture, float stock, do a little middle-weight slugging, and play the piano.’

“‘Can you herd sheep?’ asks the little ranchman.

“‘Do you mean have I heard sheep?’ says I.

“‘Can you herd ’em—take charge of a flock of ’em?’ says he.

“‘Oh,’ says I, ‘now I understand. You mean chase ’em around and bark at ’em like collie dogs. Well, I might,’ says I. ‘I’ve Rh