he pasture?"

She looked at Miss Georgie whimsically. "I'm an ungrateful, bad-tempered
old woman, I guess, for they're doing it because it's the only thing
they can do, since I put my foot down on all this bombarding and burning
good powder just to ease their minds. 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. "ARE they, Goldilocks?"

"Are they what? I've told you a dozen times to stop calling me that. I
had a doll once that I named Goldilocks, and I melted her nose off--she
was wax--and you always remind me of the horrible expression it gave
to her face. I'd go every day and take her out of the bureau-drawer
and look at her, and then cry my eyes out. Won't you come and sit down,
Georgie? There's room. Now, what was the discussion, and how far had we
got? Aunt Phoebe, I don't believe it has raised a bit lately. I've been
watching that black rock with the crack in it." Evadna moved nearer to
Good Indian, and pulled her skirts close upon the other side,
thereby making a space at leas