The bedding in the bunk heaved and rolled from side to side.  Whitey reached over rather fearfully and pulled down the upper blankets, and Slim was brought to view.  Not only was Slim bound and gagged, but a coat was tied around his head, to keep him from hearing.  In fact, about the only thing to show that the man was Slim was his black hands.

Injun and Whitey hastily removed the head covering and the gag, and Whitey eagerly asked what had happened.  Slim was half choked and very indignant.

“I dunno what happened to nobody, ‘ceptin’ to me,” he gurgled.  “Gimme a drink o’ watah.  I’se burnin’ up.”

While Whitey held a cup of water to Slim’s lips, Injun struggled with his bonds, and with great difficulty succeeded in releasing him.  Whitey asked a hundred questions meanwhile, none of which Slim answered.  He seemed entirely absorbed in his own troubles, and when he was free, he carefully felt himself all over.

“Dis is fine foh mah misery, fine!” he said bitterly.

As far as Whitey had ever been able to learn, a “misery” was a sort of rheumatism.

“How is your misery?” he asked, despairing of getting him to talk about anything but himself.

“Tehibul, tehibul,” groaned Slim; “an’ dey tie me wid a rawhide rope, too, dat jest eat into mah flesh.”  And Slim looked venomously down at the lariat that lay at his feet.

“Who tied you?” Whitey inquired.

“I dunno.  Wen I wakes up dis yeah rag is bein’ jammed into mah mouf, an’ dis yeah coat bein’ wrapped round mah haid, an’ dat dere rope bein’ twisted round mah body, till it cuts mah ahms an’ legs somethin’ scand’lus.  I dunno who dey wuz, but dey suttinly wuz thorough,” Slim admitted.

“Then you didn’t hear anything?” Whitey demanded.

“Heah?  I couldn’t ‘a’ heard a elephant cough,” Slim declared.

“Well, Whiff and String Beans and Ham just rode away,” said Whitey.

“Dey did?” said Slim.  Then an awful thought came to him, and he jumped to his feet.  “Wheah’s mah watch?” he cried.  He hastily fumbled under the bedclothes, and brought to light an enormous, old-fashioned silver watch.  Then he heaved a sigh of relief.  “An’ dat Ham gone, too!  Now, how’m I goin’ t’ cook, wid dat misery wuss’n evah?”

It was very plain to Whitey that all Slim could think about the affair was the way it concerned him personally.  Also, there was no doubt in the boy’s mind that the absent men were bent on mischief.  Bill and the other cowboys were surely making a night of it at the Junction, in celebration of the gold shipment.  Whatever was to be done in the matter Whitey and Injun would have to do.  By this time Slim was busily rubbing some horse liniment on his arms and legs.

“Injun and I will see what’s to be done.  You might as well go to sleep,” Whitey said to him.

“Sleep!  Ah couldn’t sleep in Mistah Vanderbilt’s bed.”

“Well, stay awake, then,” said Whitey, as he left the bunk house, followed by Injun.