Injun and Whitey to the Rescue | Page 6

dogs, but they got one fault--they're
snobs. They don't like shabby men," Bill repeated for emphasis.
As Whitey thought of this he remembered that the dogs he had known
had this failing, if it was a failing. He also tried to think of some reason
for it, so he could prove that Bill was wrong, but he couldn't. That is, he
couldn't think of anything until Bill had gone away and it was too late.
Then it occurred to him that it was only the dogs that belonged to the
well-dressed that disliked the poorly dressed. That a shabby man's dog
loved him just as well as though he wore purple and fine linen,
whatever that was. Whitey looked around for Bill to confound him with
this truth, but Bill had disappeared--a way he had of doing the moment
he got the better of an argument.
If the two men were aching to work, they had not long to suffer; Bill
Jordan soon found occupation for them. Slim, the negro cook, had been
taken with a "misery" in his side, and Ham was installed in his place.
And to do Ham justice he was not such a bad cook. The ranch hands
allowed that he couldn't have been worse than Slim, anyway. String
Beans did not make so much of a hit as a cowpuncher. Bill watched
some of his efforts, and said that though he was a bad puncher he was a
good liar for saying he'd ever seen a cow before. So String Beans was
sent to the mine to work.
This quartz mine, up in the mountains, was the one near which Injun
and Whitey had had so many exciting adventures. Now they owned an
interest in it, as has been told, though Mr. Sherwood and a tribe of
Dakota Indians were the principal shareholders. During the summer the
mine had been undergoing development, and the first shipment of ore
was soon to be made.
With String Beans working at the mine, and Ham improving the men's
digestion as a cook, it began to look as though Whitey's idea that they
were desperate characters was ill-founded. In fact, the thought had
almost passed from his mind, and was quite forgotten on a certain

Saturday. On that day Injun and Whitey were free from the teachings of
John Big Moose, and were out on the plains for antelope. They didn't
get an antelope, didn't even see one. All they got were appetites; though
Whitey's appetite came without calling, as it were, and always excited
the admiration of Bill Jordan. After dinner that evening Whitey went to
the bunk house. Some of the cowpunchers were in from the range, and
Whitey loved to hear the yarns they would spin.
So he lay in a bunk and listened to a number of stories, and wondered if
they were all true--and it is a singular fact that some of them were. But
Whitey's day's hunt had been long, and his dinner had been big, and his
eyes began to droop.
Buck Higgins was in the midst of a tale about being thrown from his
cayuse and breaking his right arm. There was a wild stallion in this
story, which every puncher in seven states or so had tried to capture.
Now, Buck, with his right arm broken, naturally had to throw his rope
with his left, and his manner of doing that took some description. It was
during this that in Whitey's mind he, in a mysterious way, changed to
Buck, or rather Buck changed to Whitey, and the stallion changed to an
antelope, and pretty soon things began to get rather vague generally.
When Whitey awoke, the bunk house was almost dark. How long he
had been lying asleep he did not know. The light came from a candle,
and presently Whitey heard voices. Three men were seated near by, and
Whitey was about to get out of the bunk, when he recognized the voice
of String Beans, and something held him back. It was evident that the
men did not know that he was there.
Whitey felt something warm stir against him, and, startled, put out his
hand and encountered a hairy surface. It was Sitting Bull, who had
crawled into the bunk after Whitey had fallen asleep, and crowded in
between the boy and the wall. At the sound of String Beans' voice
Whitey felt the hair along Bull's neck rise. He remembered the dog's
dislike for the two men, and put his hand over Bull's mouth to keep him
from growling. Whitey was glad he did not snore. He might now have a
chance to learn whether the two were on the level or not.

For the moment Whitey had some qualms about listening, but he soon
dismissed them.