CHAPTER XIX

A CLEVER CAPTURE

His plan had been conceived in a flash and executed almost as

quickly.

The rawhide rope squirmed through the air. He could not be sure of

his aim in the darkness, but the stranger was so close that Tad did

not believe he could miss. He knew that if he did, he would find

himself in a serious predicament.

He heard a sudden startled exclamation.

At that instant, Pink-eye, alarmed by the unusual movement on his

back, awakened and leaped lightly to one side.

"I've got him," breathed the boy, feeling the line draw tight under

his hand. "I've caught a man I----"

Pink-eye had discovered the presence of strangers now and with a

snort he changed his position by again leaping to one side. Tad

heard the man strike the ground with a grunt. He took a turn of the

lariat around the saddle pommel, drawing it taut.

"Who are you!" demanded the lad.

A snarl of rage and a struggle over there on the ground was his only

answer.

"Get up, if you don't want to be dragged. If you make a loud noise

it will be the worse for you," announced the boy sternly.

He clucked to the pony, which started forward suddenly, throwing a

strain upon the rope.

"Steady, Pink-eye. We don't want to hurt him," he cautioned, slowing

the animal down to almost a walk.

"Are you on your feet back there?"

"Y-y-y-yes."

There came a sharp jerk on the line. The boy knew that the man he

had roped, pinioning his arms to his side had managed to get his

hands up and grasped the line. In a moment he would free himself.

Tad pressed the rowels of his spurs against Pink-eye's sides. The

animal sprang forward, but the boy quickly checked him, pulling him

down into a jog trot that was not beyond the endurance of a man to

follow for a short distance.

"Remember if you allow yourself to fall down I'll drag you the rest

of the way in," warned Tad Butler. "I won't hurt you if you behave

yourself."

"Le--le--let me go. I--I--I--I--aint't done n-n-nothing."

"We'll decide that when I get you back to camp," answered Tad. "And

don't let me hear you raising your voice again or I'll put spurs to

the pony. Do you understand?"

"Y-y-y-e-s."

On the soft ground the footfalls of the pony made no sound that

could be heard any distance away. On ahead of him the lad saw the

dim light of a lantern, which he knew was at the camp and his heart

leaped exultantly at the thought of what he had accomplished. He

wondered if the others or any of them had done as well.

"Won't Mr. Simms be surprised?" he glowed.

"Wait, I--I--I'm going to drop," came a voice from behind him. It

sounded far away and indistinct.

"You'd better not unless you want to go the rest of the way lying on

your back," called back the lad. However, he slackened the speed of

his pony a little, thinking that perhaps his prisoner might be in

distress. Tad was too tender hearted to cause another to suffer,

even if it were an enemy.

The lad kept his left hand on the rope. In this way he was able to

judge how well the man was following. Now and then a violent jerk

told Tad that he was experimenting to see if he could not get

away. The fellow might have braced his feet and possibly snapped the

line, but he evidently feared to do this lest he be thrown on his

face and dragged that way, for the noose of the lariat had, by this

time, so tightened about his body as to bind his arms tightly to his

side.

Tad uttered a warning whistle.

Instantly he noted figures moving about the camp. His call had been

heard. The camp-fire was stirred to give more light, and as its

embers flared up, Tad Butler and his prisoner galloped in.

At first they did not observe that he had a man in tow.

Old Hicks hobbled forward with a growl and a demand to know what the

row was about.

"What is it, boy? What is it? Are they coming!" exclaimed Mr. Simms,

running toward him.

"I've got a man. I can't stop. Grab him!" cried Tad in an excited,

triumphant tone.

Mr. Simms saw. The others observed at the same time. They made a

concerted rush for the lad's prisoner.

"Stop!" commanded the rancher.

Tad drew up instantly. As he did so three of them grabbed the man at

the other end of the lariat, throwing him on the ground flat on his

back.

"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 grass 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.

The Pony Rider Boys in Montana; Or, The Mystery of the Old Custer Trail · 第 19 / 24 章