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116 pages

English

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In this thrilling volume of the action-adventure series for younger readers, the group of pals known as the Border Boys find themselves in hot water when their exploration of the open range leads them to a mysterious underground river. It's not only a wonder of nature -- it's also a conduit for illegal activities, as the boys soon discover.

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Adventure (Guyana)

Adventure

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 avril 2016
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776599332
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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THE BORDER BOYS ACROSS THE FRONTIER
* * *
JOHN HENRY GOLDFRAP

*
The Border Boys Across the Frontier First published in 1911 Epub ISBN 978-1-77659-933-2 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77659-934-9 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - The Trail of the Haunted Mesa Chapter II - The Sand Storm Chapter III - A Night Alarm Chapter IV - Some Queer Tracks Chapter V - The Hollow Altar Chapter VI - The Legend of a Forgotten Race Chapter VII - What Came Across the Desert Chapter VIII - The Dark Face of Danger Chapter IX - In the Mesa Dwellers' Burial Ground Chapter X - A New Mexican Styx Chapter XI - The Camp of the Gun-Runner Chapter XII - Madero's Flying Column Chapter XIII - In the Camp of the Insurrectos Chapter XIV - "Death to the Gringoes!" Chapter XV - A Race for Life Chapter XVI - What Happened to Coyote Pete Chapter XVII - Bob Harding Does "the Decent Thing" Chapter XVIII - The Tables Turned Chapter XIX - Buck Bradley's Automobile Chapter XX - At the Esmeralda Mine Chapter XXI - An Act of Treachery Chapter XXII - At Rosario Station Chapter XXIII - Jack Merrill's "Special" Chapter XXIV - The Attack on the Mine Chapter XXV - The Last Stand—Conclusion
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 brightbay pony with a white-starred forehead, drew rein as he spoke. Shovingback his sombrero, he shielded his eyes from the shimmering desertglare with one hand and gazed intently off into the southwest.
"Nope; nary a speck, so fur. Queer, too; we ought to be seein' it bynow."
Coyote Pete, as angular, rangy and sinewy as ever, gazed as intently inthe same direction as the lad, Jack Merrill, himself. The pauseallowed the remainder of the party to ride up. There was RalphStetson, a good deal browner and sturdier-looking than when weencountered him last in "The Border Boys on the Trail"; Walt Phelps,the ranch boy, whose blazing hair outrivaled the glowing sun; and thebony, grotesque form of Professor Wintergreen, preceptor of Latin andthe kindred tongues at Stonefell College, and amateur archaeologist.Lest they might feel slighted, let us introduce also, One Spot, TwoSpot and Three Spot, the pack burros.
"I always had an idea that the Haunted Mesa formed quite a prominentobject in the landscape," put in Professor Wintergreen, referring to asmall leather-bound book, which he had just taken from one of hissaddle-bags.
"And I always had an idea," laughed Ralph Stetson, "that a landscapemeant something with brooks and green trees and cows and—and things,in it."
The young son of "King Pin" Stetson, the Eastern Railroad King, lookedabout him at the gray desert, above which the sun blazed mercilesslydown with all the intensity of a burning glass. Here and there wereisolated clumps of rank-odored mesquite, the dreariest lookinggray-green bush imaginable. The scanty specimens of this variety ofthe vegetable life of the desert were interspersed here and there bygroups of scraggly, prickly cacti. Across such country as this, theparty 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, andhad 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 the right direction," he said."Nothing for it but to keep on going; eh, Pete?"
"When yer cain't turn back, 'keep on goin's' a good word," assented thephilosophical cow-puncher of the Agua Caliente, stroking hissun-bleached yellow moustache and untangling a knot in his pony's mane.
"It's up to us to get somewhere where there is water pretty quick," putin Walt Phelps; "the last time I hit the little drinking canteen Inoticed that there wasn't an awful lot left in the others."
"No, and the stock's feelin' it, too," grunted Pete, digging his big,blunt-roweled spurs into his buckskin cayuse.
Followed by Jack on his Firewater, the professor on his queer, bonysteed as angular as himself, Ralph on Petticoats—of excitingmemory,—and Walt Phelps on his big gray, they pushed on.
The heat was blistering. In fact, to any one less accustomed to thearduous intensity of the sun's rays in this part of the country, itwould have proved almost insupportable. But our party was pretty wellseasoned by this time.
All of them wore the broad, leather-banded sombreros of the plainsmenexcept Professor Wintergreen, who had invested himself in a giganticpith sun-helmet, from beneath which his spectacled countenance peeredout, as Ralph said, "Like a toad peeking out from a mushroom." For therest, the boys wore leather "chaps," blue shirts open at the neck, withloosely knotted red handkerchiefs about their throats. The latter wereboth to keep the sun off the back of their necks and to serve asprotection for their mouths and nostrils against the dust in case ofnecessity,—as for example, when they struck a patch of burning, bitingalkali. Of this pungent stuff, they had already encountered one or twostretches, and had been glad to muffle up the lower part of their facesas they rode through it.
As for Coyote Pete, those who have followed his earlier experiences arepretty familiar with that redoubtable cow-puncher's appearance; sufficeit to say, therefore, that, as usual, he wore his battered leather"chaps," faded blue shirt, and his big sombrero with the silver starsaffixed to the stamped leather band. In a holster he carried a rifle,as did the rest of the party, as well as his well-worn revolver. Theothers had provided themselves with similar weapons, although theirsglittered in blatant newness beside Pete's battered, but well-cleanedand oiled, "shootin' iron."
While they are pressing onward, with the Hachetas lying like a dim,blue cloud far behind them, let us tell the reader something about thequest that brings our party into the midst of this inhospitable place.As readers of "The Border Boys on the Trail" know, ProfessorWintergreen had accompanied Jack Merrill and Ralph Stetson fromStonefell College, some weeks before, to spend a vacation on the AguaCaliente Ranch, belonging to Jack's father. The professor, as well asbeing on a vacation, was in a sense on a mission, for he bore with himthe commission of a well-known institute of science in the East toinvestigate some of the mesas of this part of the world, and also toprocure relics and trophies of the vanished race that once inhabitedthem, and accurate measurements of the strange formations.
Since their arrival at the ranch, some weeks before, events had soshaped themselves as to render the immediate undertaking of his missionimpossible. The descent of Black Ramon de Barros on the ranch, as wehave related, and the subsequent abduction of the boys to the oldMission across the border, had so fully occupied their attention, thatall thought of the professor's errand had been lost sight of.
With Black Ramon, thanks to the boys, forever banished from hiscattle-rustling raids, and the subsequent tranquility of routine life,had come a recollection of the professor's quest. Coyote Pete, a fewdays before this story opens, had volunteered to act as guide to theprofessor and his party to a mesa seldom visited except by wanderingIndians and occasional cow-punchers. This was the Haunted Mesa, thelocation of which was so difficult to reach that previous relic-huntingexpeditions had not included it in their travels.
Mr. Merrill was the more willing to allow the boys to go along, as hehad been suddenly summoned into Chihuahua province, in Mexico, byreports of trouble at a mine—The Esmeralda—he owned there. Rumors ofan insurrection had reached him—an insurrection which meant greatperil to American interests. He had, therefore, lost no time insetting out to ascertain the true state of affairs at his mine, which,while a small one, was still likely to develop in time into anextremely valuable property.
Leaving the ranch in charge of Bud Wilson, he had started for theMexican country without waiting for the departure of the professor'sexpedition. A short time later, "Professor Wintergreen's HauntedMesans," as the boys insisted on calling themselves, had likewisestarted on their quest. With them, at Jack Merrill's invitation, wentWalter Phelps, the son of a ranching neighbor of Mr. Merrill. Walt, itwill be recalled, had shared the perils and adventures of the boysacross the border, as related in the previous volume, and had been theinstrument of piloting them out of the mysterious valley in which BlackRamon kept his plundered herds.
Mr. Merrill's last words had been ones of caution.
"Remember, boys, that if this trouble in Mexico attains realproportions, life and property along the border may be in great danger.In such a case, it will be your immediate duty to turn back."
"But, Dad," Jack had said, "you don't expect that plunderinginsurrectos would have the audacity to come northward into the Playas?"
Mr. Merrill laughed.
"I didn't say there was any danger even here, my boy. Least of all,out in that barren country. If there is an insurrection, it willdoubtless be put down without any trouble, but it is always well to beprepared."
Like his brother ranchers along the border, Mr. Merrill at that timehad no idea of the seriousness or extent