"When gentlemen of a dark and sinister cast of mind deliberately set out to frustrate one's legitimate efforts under a misapprehension as to the course to be pursued, the proper diplomacy in such a case is to foster the delusion circulating in their craniums as long as possible and thus divert their attention from the real purpose.

Don't you agree with me, David ?" Lee Bryant gravely inquired of his young companion, as they were about to set forth next morning.
"Yes, sir," Dave affirmed, to whom the statement was so much Greek.
"Then since the vote is unanimous, we'll proceed to run a line along the mountain side where it will collide with these new homesteads." The engineer shouldered tripod and rod, whistled Mike to heel, and with Dave started forward.

Half way to Bartolo they perceived three men busy on the hillside, so Bryant swung up to a point a quarter of a mile off and began surveying.

When he approached the workmen, Mexicans naturally, he saw that they were engaged in setting fence posts, of which a row was already in line part way up the hill.
The men dropped their tools and confronted him as he drew near.
"This is my land; you keep away," one exclaimed, with waving arms, while the other backed him up in a show of force.
"How can I build a canal here if you won't let me go through ?" Bryant demanded.
"No go through, no canal on my claim!" "Well, just let me run a line, anyhow." "No.

Keep off, keep off," was the obstinate answer.
The engineer continued to argue, now as if in anger and now with a conciliatory mien, all the while protesting that the homesteader must not prevent the construction of the canal.