"There may be others; I can weed them out.

At least saws won't be breaking every two weeks and lumber won't warp for lack of proper handling.
Maybe I can get somebody back East to look after the office there and--" He ceased his soliloquy as he glanced ahead and noticed the trim figure of Medaine Robinette swinging along the road, old Lost Wing, as usual, trailing in her rear, astride a calico pony and leading the saddle horse which she evidently had become tired of riding.

A small switch was in one hand, and she flipped it at the new leaves of the aspens and the broad-leafed mullens beside the road.

As yet, she had not seen him, and Barry hurried toward her, jamming his cap into a pocket that his hand might be free to greet her.

He waved airily as they came closer and called.