The Border Boys with the Mexican Rangers

by John Henry Goldfrap

How this came about we told in the second volume of this series, “The Border Boys Across The Frontier.” Beginning with their discovery of the subterranean river leading from the Haunted Mesa across the border, the lads were plunged into an amazing series of adventures. These culminated in the attack on the Esmeralda,—a mine owned by Jack’s father,—and the gallant defense of it by our lads and their faithful friends. The attacking force was composed of Mexican rebels and they were only repulsed by an unexpected happening. Black Ramon was active in this part of the boys’ adventures, too. For a time it looked as if they at last had brought the rascal with the coal black horse to book. But it proved otherwise, and Black Ramon once more made good his escape from the arm of the law.

Their adventures in Mexico over, and the revolution brought to a termination by the abdication of President Diaz, the Border Boys settled down to spend the rest of their vacation in comparative monotony. A few weeks before the present story opens, however, an incident had occurred which seemed destined once more to provide some excitement for them.

Mr. Stetson, whose railroad interests had brought him to Mexico during the fighting days, had paid a hasty visit to the ranch and spent some time in consultation with Mr. Merrill. Professor Wintergreen had also been summoned to the conference. It appeared that the railroad king had, some years before, materially aided a young college friend who had fallen on hard times. The beneficiary of his aid had, however, ultimately wandered away from the position with which Mr. Stetson had provided him, without leaving a word or a sign of his destination. The years rolled by and Mr. Stetson had practically forgotten all about the man, when, during his stay in El Paso, a wretched, ragged figure had confronted him on the street one day and disclosed his identity as Stewart Ruggles, the outcast.

Mr. Stetson, shocked at his old friend’s abject appearance of misery and illness, ordered a carriage and took him to his hotel. Here, after Ruggles had been suitably clothed and fed, Mr. Stetson listened to his story. After wandering off so many years before, Ruggles, it seems, had fallen in with bad company. He finally had become connected with a bank robbery and had been compelled to seek refuge in Mexico. After knocking about for many lonely years, he became a prospector.

One spring had found him in the mountains of Chinipal, with his burros and prospecting outfit. He met with indifferent luck and was about to vacate the country, when, one day, in a rugged pass, he heard groans coming from the trailside. Investigating, he found a Yaqui, who had been swept from his horse by an overhanging branch, and whose leg was broken. With characteristic brutality and callousness, the rest of the tribe had passed on, leaving the wounded man to shift as best he might.

Ruggles, who had some rough knowledge of surgery, set the man’s leg and tended him for several days. At last one day the Yaqui was ready to ride on. But before he left he confided to Ruggles the location of a mountain known to the Indians as the Trembling Mountain. In a cavern in the interior of this eminence,—so the Indian legend had it,—a vanished race of aborigines had hidden vast treasures of gold and sacrificial emblems of great value. Asked why, if this was the case, his own tribesmen had not sought for it, the Yaqui had declared that rather than enter the mountain his fellows would cut off their right hands. It was, according to their belief, guarded by the spirits of the dead and gone race, and terrible vengeance would light on the head of the luckless mortal who offended them.

Under the Indian’s direction Ruggles had drawn up a rough map of the location of Trembling Mountain and then, determined to investigate it, had set out for the north to find proper equipment for his quest. But he found the land in the throes of revolution, and where he was not laughed at as a lunatic he was told to wait till times became more settled. In poverty and despair he was wandering the streets of El Paso when chance threw him across the path of his old college mate.

Mr. Stetson, who had been known as one of the most daring operators on Wall Street, believed where others had scoffed. He agreed to back Ruggles in his quest to any amount. But while active preparations were still on foot, a fever seized the prospector. His impoverished frame was unable to resist the attack, and in a few days he breathed his last, not before, however, he had confided to Mr. Stetson his wish that the latter would carry out the quest.

The railroad king faithfully saw the remains of his unfortunate and erring friend to the grave, and then began to consider the feasibility of the enterprise to which he stood committed. It was clear, he decided, that the mission was no ordinary one. It could only be performed by trustworthy agents, for, in the event of the treasure being there, the temptation to play him false would be tremendous. Then, too, it must be kept secret, because, on the face of it, the venture appeared such a far-fetched and desperate one that unless success crowned it its promoter was likely to be heaped with ridicule from one end of the country to the other.