"Mebbe they've stolen something," continued Whitey.

"No, no come into the house, me hear 'em," said Injun. "In bunk house
nothin' to steal."

Suddenly Whitey thought of the negro cook, the only other man on the
place, and demanded, "Where's Slim?"

"Dunno," said Injun, and followed Whitey, who shoved his feet into a
pair of slippers and ran hastily from the room.

The bunk house was dark, the men having put out their lanterns before
they rode away. Whitey groped for matches and, finding one, lighted a
lamp. Slim was nowhere to be seen. Whitey looked at Injun in wonder and
alarm. Injun looked at Whitey with no expression of any kind.

"Mebbe they've killed Slim!" cried Whitey.

"Mebbe," Injun agreed.

Sitting Bull had silently followed the boys, and while they were
investigating with their eyes, he was doing the same with his nose. His
search had led him to a bunk, and with his fore paws on its edge, he was
gazing into it, his head on one side and a very puzzled expression on
his face. Bull rarely barked, except to express great joy, and he never
was afraid. His nose had told him what was in that bunk; the curious
movements of the object were what puzzled him. Attracted by the dog's
interest, Injun and Whitey went to him.