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"All right?" sang back Tad.
"Yes."
The boy unwound the rope from his saddle pommel and casting the end from him, rode back and dismounted. Yes, he had caught a cowman, but the fellow sullenly refused to answer a question that was put to him.
The prisoner was glaring up at him with eyes so full of malignant hate that Tad instinctively shrank back.
"Know him!" asked Mr. Simms sharply.
"Not by name. He's one of the men I saw over at the Corners. He was the worst one of the lot, except the boy they called Bob."
No amount of questioning, however, would draw the fellow out. They had bound him hand and foot and straightened up to view their work.
"There's no use in wasting time," decided Mr. Simms. "Drag him over to my tent and throw him in. Did you hear anybody besides this man?"
Tad told him about the owl calls. The rancher pondered a few seconds.
"That sounds to me more like an Indian trick. But I am satisfied we are going to be attacked tonight. You had better go back to your post. Can you find the way?"
"Yes, I think so," answered the lad.
"Boy, you've done a great piece of work. I'll talk with you about it when we have more time. I must hurry out and find Luke. The rest of you stick by the camp until you know that the cowmen are here; then sail in. There'll likely be some shooting."
"Any further instructions?" asked Tad, bunching the reins in his hand preparatory to mounting.
"Nothing. That is, unless you find you can rope some more of these cayuses. I'd like to have them all tied up here for a while. I've got a few things to say to them. They'd have to listen whether they wanted to or not if they were all in the same fix that fellow is,"
he added with a short, mirthless laugh.
Tad swung himself into the saddle, first having coiled his rope and hung it in its place.
"Good-bye," he sang out, starting out at a gallop and disappearing in the night.
As Tad drew near the scene of his recent experience, he slowed the pony down to a walk, moving on with extreme caution. He did not want to fall into the trap that the cowboy had only a short time before.
After groping about in the darkness some time, he finally came upon the very tree that had sheltered him before.
Tad uttered a low exclamation of satisfaction, once more taking up his position under its spreading branches. He had been there but a short time when the foreman rode up, giving a low whistle so that the boy would know who it was.
"Anything develop?"
"Yes."
"What?"
Tad told him briefly of the capture of the cowboy.
"Good boy," glowed Luke, reaching over and slapping Tad on the back approvingly. "I guess we made no mistake in giving you this post. But there's not likely to be any more of them come through this way. I am going to send you down nearer the center. We are going to have all the fun we want before morning. So I wish you would move down nearer the herd. When the racket begins, if it does, we shall need all the sheepmen to help drive off the raiders. You will relieve one of them and look after the sheep. I have told your friend Ned the same thing. He's down there now."
"Where are the sheep?"
"Head just a little to your left and ride straight, on till you come up with them. But be sure to give the whistle now and then so our men will know who you are if they chance to hear you coming. Did anybody know the fellow you roped?"
"No. I saw him at the store yesterday, though."
"Guess you've made no mistake then. Well, so long."
Tad missed his way in the darkness, and had roamed about for some time before finally coming up with the herd. Even then he was at a part of the line where there seemed to be no one on guard.
He whistled and waited. After a little the signal was answered It was then only a matter of a few moments before he had joined the herder and delivered his message.
The man rode away to take up his new position and Tad settled down to tending sheep. There was little for him to do, the animals being sound asleep, but he rather enjoyed the relief from the strain that he had been under while watching for intruders off yonder under the tree.
Dismounting, the boy sat down on the ground, having stripped the reins over the pony's neck so that he could keep them in his hand. Pinkeye nibbled at the gra.s.s a few seconds. It did not seem to satisfy the animal, for the sheep had worked it pretty well down ahead of him. So Pink-eye went to sleep, and Tad found himself nodding so persistently that he forced himself to get up and walk back and forth a few paces each way.
"I am getting to be as much of a sleepy head as Chunky is," he smiled. "That goat ride was the funniest thing I ever saw. I wonder where Billy took himself to. He's a wise goat. I actually believe he had more fun out of putting the camp to the bad than the rest of us experienced in watching him."
Pink-eye woke up and rubbed his nose against the boy's coat sleeve.
A shrill whistle trilled out off to the west. It was followed by another and another, until the air seemed full of them.
Tad paused abruptly in his walk and listened.
A pistol spat viciously. He caught the flash faintly in the distance.
Tad threw the reins over Pink-eye's neck and vaulted into the saddle. Boy and pony were both wide awake now.
CHAPTER XX
THRILLING RESCUE OF THE RANCHER
"They're here," breathed the lad. "I wonder what's going to happen."
As if in answer to his question, a volley of pistol shots sounded to the west of him. Almost instantly following, guns began to pop to the north and south.
Shouts and yells sounded everywhere.
Startled, half a hundred sheep near him, scrambled to their feet.
"W-h-o-e-e-e," soothed Tad, turning toward them as he remembered that he had a duty to perform. "Come now, Pink-eye, never mind the shooting. Just you and I attend to our business. That's what we've got to do."
Yet Tad regretted that he was not over there in the thick of the fight. He gave a long whistle, hoping to find some one near him. The whistle was not answered, therefore he concluded that he was alone on that side of the herd. But where was Ned? He should be somewhere near by.
By this time the restless herd required his whole attention. Tad galloped up and down the line, speaking soothing words to the frightened sheep, whistling and trying to sing.