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.