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.