Whitey wormed Injun’s story from him, in jerky sentences, while Hank Dawes rode up and looked on, and listened indifferently.  It seemed that two days before, at the Bar O Ranch Monty had “turned up missing.”  Injun, who knew Monty’s hoofprints as one friend would know the color of another’s eyes, had taken it upon himself to follow them.  They had led him a long chase, ending at a night camp, many miles west of the spot where he and Whitey met.

Injun had tied his pony some distance from the camp.  This that he might not whinney a greeting to Monty.  Then Injun had crept up on the camper-thief, and waited patiently until “him snore heap.”  Then Injun had quietly extracted Monty from that camp, and silently faded away into the night.  He was now on his way to the Bar O.

“Didn’t you see who the thief was?” asked Whitey.

“Him fire out.  Me ’fraid make light,” said Injun, unknowingly giving a hint of the time he must have visited at the camp.

Monty was showing his joy at meeting Whitey, who was patting the pony’s neck.

“This isn’t my saddle!” Whitey cried suddenly.

“Him Bill Jordan’s saddle,” said Injun, grinning.  It seemed to appeal to Injun’s peculiar sense of humor that the clever Mr. Jordan should have had his saddle stolen.

“Did Bill suspect any one?” inquired Whitey.

“Guess heap, can’t tell,” Injun replied.  “Henry Dorgan, him leave Monday,” Injun added darkly, plainly willing to connect the man he disliked with the theft.

Whitey hardly thought that Dorgan would risk a return to the ranch for Monty, though he always had admired the pony.  If Dorgan had stolen Monty, it was pleasant to think that he was now wending his way across the plains on foot.

Another idea occurred to Whitey.  “Why don’t you stay with me, Injun?” he demanded.  “Then we can ride back to the Bar O together.”

Injun grinned his agreement to the idea, not saying that he had thought of it first.  So Whitey transferred his person to Monty, and, leading the Star Circle horse, he and Injun and Hank Dawes continued on their way.  And Mr. Dawes was allowed to ride ahead while Whitey told Injun what had befallen him since leaving the Bar O Ranch, and of his present errand.

Injun cast a knowing eye at the sky.  “No cut out cows t’day,” he said.  “Heap storm comin’.”

“What’s the difference?” Whitey asked.  “Maybe we can ride night herd.  It’ll be great fun.”

Riding night herd was not Injun’s idea of fun, but he was so glad to be with Whitey again that he made no objection.  He seldom made objections, anyway.  It occurred to neither of the boys that after Injun’s long pursuit of the horse-thief, it would be a hardship for him to ride all that day and possibly that night.  And, of course, Injun wasn’t hungry.  He had not been fool enough to start out on a long chase without providing himself with food.