self near the river, and idly turned Monty
toward its banks. Might as well take a little ride. Fellow didn't learn
much at that school, anyway. And so, after the ways of boys and men,
Whitey made excuses for not doing what he didn't want to do.

With his mind somewhat at ease, Monty ambled along the shore of the
Yellowstone, with Whitey enjoying the scenery as much as his conscience
would let him, and his conscience getting weaker every minute. And
presently, at some distance, he saw a small huddled-up figure sitting on
the bank. Closer inspection proved this figure to be pink, and still
closer inspection revealed it to be Injun. Wondering what Injun was
doing in that neighborhood, Whitey approached, and was surprised to find
that Injun was fishing.

Knowing that Indians never fish except through necessity, Whitey was
puzzled. As he drew nearer, Injun turned and regarded him, betraying no
surprise at Whitey's being there; at his not being in school. Whitey
dismounted and sat near his friend.

"What are you fishing for, Injun?" he asked.

"Fish," Injun replied seriously.

"Of course," said Whitey. "I mean what do you want to catch the fish
for?"

"Gum," spoke Injun briefly.

"Gum?" demanded the bewildered Whitey. "You can't make gum out of fish."

Injun said nothing at all. Whitey thought that perhaps he had a bite,
but he hadn't. He just didn't ooze information. It had to be dragged
from him. So Whitey proceeded.

"Please explain about this fishing for gum," he said politely.

"Gum him chew," Injun replied.

"Oh, chewing-gum!" cried Whitey. A light dawned on him, for he knew that
Injun was very fond of chewing-gum. So was Whitey. "You trade the fish
for gum."

"No trade; sell 'em; get much gum."

This was the first commercial instinct that Whitey had ever known Injun
to show, and he looked at him admiringly. At that moment Injun got a
bite. He did not betray any of the excitement a white boy does on such
an occasion. He solemnly pulled in his line, and when it was almost in,
a good-sized pickerel squirmed off the hook, and flopped back into the
water. And now Injun showed no disappointment. He seriously examined the
worm on his hook, to see that it was intact, then cast the line into the
river again.

Whitey watched him in silence. Injun got another bite, and the same
operation was repeated, except that the fish that escaped was larger
than the other. Injun patiently rebaited his hook. "Biggest one him