THE wild country on the borders of Mexico and the United States is as rich in romantic history as any in the world. From the days when tho Conquisladores broke up the Empire of Montezuma to the time when Billy the Kid ranged the plains, its story was one of almost incessant bloodshed-the battles of men who held life cheaply, but were apt to sell their lives very dearly when it camo to the point. Even now it is no country for weaklings-for men who cannot ride like a Rodeo crack, shoot like tho hero of a novelette, fight like a movie star, and generally live rough. Mr. Escott North is such a type, and a considerable portion of his crowded and variegated career was passed on the Mexican border, which ho knows as well as any man could.