"This is certainly an odd sort of place--quite different from a New England town," was Dave's comment, as he and his chum went from one shop to another in San Antonio in quest of the things they wished to buy. "Seems to me that it has quite a Mexican flavor to it," remarked Roger. "Just see all the big hats and the fringed trousers." Now that they had come so far the chums were eager to get to the camp, and they could scarcely wait until the following morning. They found a comfortable hotel, had an early breakfast, and by seven o'clock were on their way westward. "Now we are almost on the border," remarked Roger, as they stopped at a place called Del Rio. He was studying a railroad map. "At the next place, called Viaduct, we will be on the Rio Grande, with Mexico just across from us." "It isn't such a very grand river after all," remarked Dave, when they came in sight of the stream. "It looks more like a great big overgrown creek to me." "You can't compare these rivers with the Hudson or the St. Lawrence, Dave. But I suppose at certain seasons of the year this river gets to be pretty big." Soon their train rolled into Molona and the youths alighted. The station was a primitive affair, consisting of a small platform and a building not over ten feet square. Word had been sent ahead that they were coming, and among the several Texans and Mexicans who had gathered to watch the train come in, they found a middle-aged man on a burro with two other burros standing behind. "Are you the young fellows for the Mentor camp?" he questioned, as Dave and Roger approached him. "We are," returned our hero, quickly. "Did you come for us?" "I did. Mr. Watson sent a wire that you were coming, so the boss sent me here to get you, thinking you wouldn't know the way. Porter and Morr, I believe--but which is which?" "I am Dave Porter," answered Dave, "and this is my chum, Roger Morr." "Glad to know you. My name is Frank Andrews. I am from Scranton, Pennsylvania. I suppose you can ride?" "Oh, yes," answered Roger. "We did more or less riding when we were out on Star Ranch." "Good enough! Some of the young fellows who come out here can't ride at all, and they have some trouble getting around, believe me! This, you know, is the country of magnificent distances," and Frank Andrews laughed. "How many have you in the camp here?" questioned Dave, after he and Roger had mounted the two waiting burros and were riding off beside the man from the engineering camp. "There are twenty of us in the engineering gang, and I think they have about seventy to eighty men in the construction camp, with forty or fifty more on the way. You see, they have been bothered a great deal for hired help lately on account of the trouble with the Mexican bandits and revolutionists. Lots of men are afraid to come down here to work for fear some bandits will make a raid across the border and shoot them down." "Have you had any trouble lately?" questioned Roger, quickly.