E-text prepared by Al Haines Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 19083-h.htm or 19083-h.zip: (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/0/8/19083/19083-h/19083-h.htm) or (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/0/8/19083/19083-h.zip) 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."