Injun and Whitey to the Rescue | Page 7

If these men were open and aboveboard, why were
they whispering in the dimly lighted bunk house? Whitey had never
been able to overcome the first distrust he had felt for String Beans and
Ham. He also had a feeling that he ought to justify that distrust, that in
a way it was up to him. So he continued to eavesdrop.
String's tones were low, and did not come to Whitey distinctly. This
was unfortunate in one way, but fortunate in another, for had the men
been nearer they probably would have seen the boy. Soon another voice
broke in, and Whitey knew it as that of "Whiff" Gates, a puncher who
was a constant smoker. Then came another voice, that of Ham And.
Whiff Gates did not bear a good reputation, and it was only because of
the scarcity of help that Bill Jordan kept him on. As Whitey reflected
on this, and the "birds of a feather flock together" idea, he kept very
still. His patience was soon rewarded, for as the men grew more earnest
in their talk, their tones became louder, though Whitey could not hear
as distinctly as he would have liked.
However, he gathered that String had returned from the mine on
account of an injury to his foot, caused by a piece of rock falling on it.
That there had been some excitement at the mine, owing to a "bug
hole" being discovered. Whitey learned afterwards this was a sort of
pocket caused by the dripping of water, and containing a small but very
rich quantity of ore. Whitey also heard something about a certain date,
on which the three were to be at a certain place, but here, to his disgust,
the voices were again lowered, as if in caution.
On the whole, though this secret meeting seemed suspicious, the boy
did not learn enough to form a basis for action. Presently the men went
away, and after waiting until he considered it safe, Whitey left the bunk
house, followed by the faithful Bull. Whitey decided not to tell Bill
Jordan what he had heard. Bill probably would only poke fun at him
and hand him one of those arguments he couldn't answer.
But the next day he took Injun into his confidence. Injun had no use for
String and Ham, and furthermore was a person who could keep a secret.

And here was something for the boys to keep to themselves--a
mystery,--something to be solved. They would lie low and await events.
It made them feel quite important.
CHAPTER III
MYSTERY
Awaiting events did not seem a very thrilling occupation. Of course,
there was always John Big Moose's tutoring to fill in the gaps, but that
was less thrilling than just waiting, if possible. The teaching took place
in the big living-room of the ranch house, a room with a great stone
fireplace, the stone for which had been carted down from the mountains;
with walls decorated with Indian trophies--tomahawks, bows and
arrows, stone pipes and hatchets, knives--and with beadwork,
snowshoes, and many other interesting things. All these were enough to
take a fellow's mind off his lessons, and besides there was the floor,
with its bear and moose and panther skins, each with its history.
And outside, viewed through the big windows, was the rolling prairie,
with the touch of early fall on it, sometimes revealed in a light curtain
of haze, at which a fellow could gaze and imagine he saw the squaws of
the savage tribes gathering the maize for the coming winter's store,
while the braves rode off to hunt the buffalo.
Yes, it was rather distracting, but John Big Moose was very patient
about the lessons, though he had been eager for knowledge himself. He
had worked his way through a Western college, spurred on by the hope
of bettering his people, the Dakotas, and he had bettered them. And
when Mr. Sherwood, Whitey's father, had gone East, with the
understanding that John was to tutor Whitey and Injun, John had
resolved to do his best.
But this other Injun, Whitey's pal, was not what you might call eager
for knowledge. Reading and writing were all right, and might be put to
some practical use, but arithmetic seemed rather useless, and when it
came to the "higher branches," geometry and trigonometry, they
loomed up to Injun like a bugbear of the future. In his heart Injun pined

for his truly loved field of study--the great outdoors.
But presently there came a slight break in the dull routine of words and
figures--a half-holiday. The first shipment of ore was to be made from
the mine. John Big Moose represented his tribe's interest in this mine,
and he was to go and inspect operations. The ore was to come down