There was no doubt that affairs were rather dull on the Bar O Ranch; at
least they seemed so to "Whitey," otherwise Alan Sherwood. Since he and
his pal, "Injun," had had the adventures incidental to the finding of
the gold in the mountains, there had been nothing doing. So life seemed
tame to Whitey, to whom so many exciting things had happened since he
had come West that he now had a taste for excitement.

It was Saturday, so there were no lessons, and it was a relief to be
free from the teachings of John Big Moose, the educated Dakota, who
acted as tutor for Injun and Whitey. Not that John was impatient with
his pupils. He was too patient, if anything, his own boyhood not being
so far behind him that he had forgotten that outdoors, in the Golden
West, is apt to prove more interesting to fifteen-year-old youth than
printed books--especially when one half the class is of Indian blood.

As Whitey stood near the bunk house and thought of these things, his eye
was attracted by a speck moving toward him across the prairie. He
watched it with the interest one might have in a ship at sea; as one
watches in a place in which few moving things are seen. The speck was
small, and was coming toward Whitey slowly.

From around the corner of the bunk house Injun approached. It will be
remembered by those who have read of Injun that he was very fond of pink
pajamas. As garments, pink pajamas seemed to Injun to be the real thing.
It had been hard to convince him that they were not proper for everyday
wear, but when he was half convinced of this fact, he had done the next
best thing, and taken to a very pink shirt. This, tucked in a large pair
of men's trousers, below which were beaded moccasins, was Injun's
costume, which he wore with quiet dignity.