He felt that Phoebe was waiting, and he pressed his lips together.

"Must a man be in love with some woman all the time ?" He shook his fingers impatiently so that the last drops hurried to the pool.
"She's a good girl, and a brave girl," Phoebe remarked irrelevantly.
Good Indian felt that she was still waiting, with all the quiet persistence of her sex when on the trail of a romance.

He reached up and caught the hand upon his shoulder, and laid it against his cheek.

He laughed surrender.
"Squaw-talk-far-off heap smart," he mimicked old Peppajee gravely.

"Heap bueno." He stood up as suddenly as he had started his rock-lifting a few minutes before, and taking Phoebe by the shoulders, shook her with gentle insistence.