They've got to do something, I suppose, or they'd all burst.

And I don't know but what it's a good thing for 'em to work off their energy digging ditches, even if it don't do a mite of good." Good Indian was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, murmuring lover's confidences behind the shield of his tilted hat, which hid from all but Evadna his smiling lips and his telltale, glowing eyes.

He looked up at that last sentence, though it is doubtful if he had heard much of what she had been saying.
"It's bound to do good if it does anything," he said, with an optimism which was largely the outgrowth of his beatific mood, which in its turn was born of his nearness to Evadna and her gracious manner toward him.
"We promised not to molest them on their claims.

But if they get over the line to meddle with our water system, or carry any in buckets--which they can't, because they all leak like the deuce"-- he grinned as he thought of the bullet holes in them--"why, I don't know but what someone might object to that, and send them back on their own side of the line." He picked up a floating ribbon-end which was a part of Evadna's belt, and ran it caressingly through his fingers in a way which set Miss Georgie's teeth together.

"I'm afraid," he added dryly, his eyes once more seeking Evadna's face with pure love hunger, "they aren't going to make much of a stagger at placer mining, if they haven't any water." He rolled the ribbon up tightly, and then tossed it lightly toward her face.