The Border Boys Across the Frontier

The Border Boys Across the
Frontier, by

Fremont B. Deering
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Title: The Border Boys Across the Frontier
Author: Fremont B. Deering

Release Date: August 19, 2006 [eBook #19083]
Language: English
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THE BORDER BOYS ACROSS THE FRONTIER
by
FREMONT B. DEERING
Author of "The Border Boys on the Trail," "The Border Boys with the
Mexican Rangers," "The Border Boys with the Texan Rangers," "The
Border Boys in the Canadian Rockies," "The Border Boys Along the St.
Lawrence."

[Frontispiece: "Right off there! Look! Look!" The lanky cow puncher
pointed out beyond the shadow of the solitary mesa.]

A. L. Burt Company Publishers ---------- New York Copyright, 1911,
by Hurst & Company

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
THE TRAIL OF THE HAUNTED MESA II. THE SAND STORM III.
A NIGHT ALARM IV. SOME QUEER TRACKS V. THE HOLLOW
ALTAR VI. THE LEGEND OF A FORGOTTEN RACE VII. WHAT
CAME ACROSS THE DESERT VIII. THE DARK FACE OF
DANGER IX. IN THE MESA DWELLERS' BURIAL GROUND X. A
NEW MEXICAN STYX XI. THE CAMP OF THE GUN-RUNNERS

XII. MADERO'S FLYING COLUMN XIII. IN THE CAMP OF THE
INSURRECTOS XIV. "DEATH TO THE GRINGOES!" XV. A
RACE FOR LIFE XVI. WHAT HAPPENED TO COYOTE PETE
XVII. BOB HARDING DOES "THE DECENT THING" XVIII. THE
TABLES TURNED XIX. BUCK BRADLEY'S AUTOMOBILE XX.
AT THE ESMERALDA MINE XXI. AN ACT OF TREACHERY
XXII. AT ROSARIO STATION XXIII. JACK MERRILL'S
"SPECIAL" XXIV. THE ATTACK ON THE MINE XXV. THE LAST
STAND.--CONCLUSION

ILLUSTRATIONS
"Right off there! Look! Look!" The lanky cow puncher pointed out
beyond the shadow of the solitary mesa . . . . . . Frontispiece
As it flared up, all three recoiled with expressions of dismay. At their
very feet was a deep chasm.
A tempest of lead rattled about the engine. Almost before they realized
it, they had swung around the curve.

The Border Boys Across the Frontier.
CHAPTER I.
THE TRAIL OF THE HAUNTED MESA.
"Can you make out any sign of the mesa yet, Pete?"
The speaker, a sun-bronzed lad of about seventeen, mounted on a bright
bay pony with a white-starred forehead, drew rein as he spoke. Shoving
back his sombrero, he shielded his eyes from the shimmering desert
glare with one hand and gazed intently off into the southwest.
"Nope; nary a speck, so fur. Queer, too; we ought to be seein' it by

now."
Coyote Pete, as angular, rangy and sinewy as ever, gazed as intently in
the same direction as the lad, Jack Merrill, himself. The pause allowed
the remainder of the party to ride up. There was Ralph Stetson, a good
deal browner and sturdier-looking than when we encountered him last
in "The Border Boys on the Trail"; Walt Phelps, the ranch boy, whose
blazing hair outrivaled the glowing sun; and the bony, grotesque form
of Professor Wintergreen, preceptor of Latin and the kindred tongues at
Stonefell College, and amateur archaeologist. Lest they might feel
slighted, let us introduce also, One Spot, Two Spot and Three Spot, the
pack burros.
"I always had an idea that the Haunted Mesa formed quite a prominent
object in the landscape," put in Professor Wintergreen, referring to a
small leather-bound book, which he had just taken from one of his
saddle-bags.
"And I always had an idea," laughed Ralph Stetson, "that a landscape
meant something with brooks and green trees and cows and--and things,
in it."
The young son of "King Pin" Stetson, the Eastern Railroad King,
looked about him at the gray desert, above which the sun blazed
mercilessly down with all the intensity of a burning glass. Here and
there were isolated clumps of rank-odored mesquite, the dreariest
looking gray-green bush imaginable. The scanty specimens of this
variety of the vegetable life of the desert were interspersed here and
there by groups of scraggly, prickly cacti. Across such country as this,
the party had been making its way for the past day and a half,--ever
since, in fact, they had left behind them the foothills of the Hachetas,
where, as we know, was located the ranch of Jack Merrill's father, and
had entered the dry, almost untravelled solitudes of the Playas.
Jack Merrill consulted a compass that was strapped to his wrist.
"Well, we're keeping steadily in