mises, or what
he considered as promises, was not among them.

So that afternoon, as Injun and Whitey could not be with the shipment of
ore, they did the next best thing. They rode off into the foothills.
And on a grassy hill that commanded a widespread view of the plains,
they looked far off over the prairie. And winding across it, clear off
near the horizon, they saw tiny specks which represented mules and
horses, laden with the sacks of precious ore, and its escort of
cowpunchers.

That evening it was lonely at the ranch, Bill Jordan and the other men
being at the Junction. String Beans nursed his sore foot, and Ham
prepared dinner, which Injun had with Whitey in the ranch house. Time
passed and still the men did not return. Evidently they were celebrating
the shipment of the mine's first output, or waiting to see it put safely
aboard the train at the Junction. So Whitey invited Injun to spend the
night, and he accepted willingly, as it gave him a chance to wear the
pink pajamas that he loved.

Yawning time had come and passed. Whitey was sleeping soundly and
dreamlessly, when he was aroused by a grip on his arm. It was Injun in
his pink pajamas.

"Some one come," he said.

"Mebbe it's Bill and the others," Whitey ventured.

"Not Bill--only one man," Injun replied.

The coming of a man didn't seem important to Whitey, but he knew Injun
must have had something on his mind, or he wouldn't have waked him, and
he waited for his friend to speak more of the words of which he was so
sparing. The next speech was not long.

"Look," said Injun, and he went to the window.

Whitey went and looked. There was a faint light in the bunk house, and
another down by the horse corral. As the boys watched, a man came out of
the bunk house, and even in the dim light Whitey recognized him. He was
String Beans.

"Why," whispered Whitey, "I thought he was lame. He doesn't even limp."

"Him get well," Injun replied.

The light at the corral moved toward and joined that at the bunk house,
and the two revealed a man leading three horses.

"It's Whiff!" gasped Whitey. "I thought he was with the men at the
Junction."

"Him get back," Injun grunted, with meaning.

Absorbed in the scene being enacted before them, the boys watched in
silence.

Bill Jordan had said that Injun slept with his mind open; that most
Injuns did; that if they hadn't done that all these years there wouldn't
be no Injuns--and no doubt Bill was right. But