"Nothin'," said Bill, "'cept your father writes that now John Big Moose
is goin', you an' Injun'll have t' go t' school at th' Forks," and he
hurried from the bunk house, followed by Shorty.

Whitey sank down on a stool in despair. Gone were the dreams of
adventure, of wild geese and bears just wakening from their winter's
sleep. School! And with those few kids at the Forks!

"What's the use of anything?" Whitey muttered dejectedly.

And Bull, who at times was very sympathetic, looked up at him as much as
to say, "Nothing."




CHAPTER VIII

INJUN TALKS


That night, in the bunk house, Bill Jordan was holding forth to a select
few--Jim Walker, Charlie Bassett, Buck Higgins, and Shorty Palmer; all
old friends and true, who could dispute and quarrel with one another
without the serious results that would have attended such action on the
part of strangers.

"Talkin' 'bout Injuns," said Bill, "all I don't know 'bout 'em you c'd
write on a hummin'-bird's finger-nail."