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Page 210

| grazing peacefully in the distance. He did not think there were enough missing to stir up this commotion and concern. |

| Still wringing his hat, Rufus edged Crispin aside. He knew that a single act of neglect or inattention on the shepherd's part might in a moment blast the prospects of his employer. He had been attentive to the sheepmore so than a mere stranger working in the capacity of a sheepherder would. Yetthe proof was there that somehow the sheep had been neglected. |

| "Ashton, Lord knows I'd never neglect my duties as sheepherder," Rufus said, his voice quavering. "But, by God, somehow some of our sheep have become infested with scab." |

| For Ashton and all graziers, the word scab was synonomous with doom. It was the terror of the sheep stations. Scab was a highly infectious disease that ruined the wool, inhibited breeding, and had no known cure. |

| "How many?" Ashton asked, trying to keep calm. He could not figure out how his sheep could have become infected. Rufus and Crispin had chosen their flock with great care. |

| "I'd say a dozen or so," Crispin said, turning to look at the grazing sheep. "We've already separated them from the rest." |

| "How could this have happened?" Ashton asked. |

| "The neighboring sheep station has a flock of sheep grazing across the river from us," Rufus said, looking in the direction of the river. "Perhaps they brought scab to the area with them." He scratched his brow idly. "But the river separates our two |

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