Evelyn Raymond

Evelyn Raymond
Evelyn Raymond was an American author known for her prolific output in the early 20th century, focusing primarily on adventure and historical fiction for young readers. She wrote numerous novels and short stories, often featuring strong female protagonists and settings that ranged from the American frontier to Europe. Raymond's works were well-received during her lifetime, contributing to the rich tapestry of literature aimed at young adults in the early 1900s.

Author's Books:

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CHAPTER I THE TRIP IN THE ERMINIE The “Erminie,” private car of “Railway Boss, Dan Ford,” stood side-tracked at Denver, and his guests within it were the happy people whom, some readers may remember, we left keeping a belated Christmas in the old adobe on the mesa, in southern California. To Dorothy, the trip thus far had been like a wonderful dream. “Just think, Alfy Babcock, of owning a... more...

CHAPTER ION THE CANYON TRAIL. “Hello, there! What in the name of reason is this?” The horseman’s excited cry was echoed by a startled neigh from his beast, which wheeled about so suddenly that he nearly precipitated both himself and rider into the gulch below. “Oh! I’m sorry––Hold on, Zu! Go! Do, please. Quick! It’s so narrow just beyond and I can’t––” The stranger obeyed,... more...

JESSICA DISAPPEARS Mrs. Benton and Jessica were upon the south porch of the Sobrante ranch house, the former busy as usual, the latter idly enjoying her charming surroundings as she swung to and fro in her hammock. Mighty vines of pale yellow roses, intermingled with climbing fuchsias, cast shade and sweetness over them; the porch was bordered by a wide swath of calla lilies, also in full flower, while... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE ROAD TO OAK KNOWE “This way for the Queen!” “Here you are for the Duke of Connaught! Right this way!” “Want the Metropole, Miss?” “Room there, stupid! She’s from the States—any fool could see that! I’m from your hotel, little lady, the American. Your luggage, Miss, allow me?” If Dorothy’s hands hadn’t been too full, she would have clapped them over her ears,... more...

CHAPTER I. THE WAY IT BEGAN. Nobody except Miss Lucy Armacost would have thought of starting an orphan asylum with one orphan. Even she might not have done it but for Molly Johns. As for Molly, she never dreamed of such a thing. She was just careering down the avenue one windy afternoon in early December, upon one roller skate, and Miss Lucy was just coming up the block, walking rather unsteadily upon... more...

CHAPTER I SAILING DOWN THE HUDSON “All aboard—what’s goin’! All ashore—what ain’t!” The stentorian shout of the colored steward, so close to Dorothy’s ear, made her jump aside with a little scream. Then as she saw that the boat hands were about to draw the gang plank back to the steamer’s deck, she gave another little cry and fairly pushed Alfaretta toward it. “Never mind hugging me... more...

CHAPTER I. AT BELLEVIEU. “Dorothy!” called Jim as he quickly searched the garden at Bellevieu for her. “Yes,” answered Dorothy, “I am here sitting under the big oak tree.” “I have something for you,” cried Jim. “Guess what?” “Guess what?” echoed Dorothy. “Well it might be—Oh! there are so many, many things it could be.” “Here, take it. Its only a letter from New York,... more...

CHAPTER I THE STORM “Margot! Margot!” Mother Angelique’s anxious call rang out over the water, once, twice, many times. But, though she shaded her brows with her hands and strained her keen ears to listen, there was no one visible and no response came back to her. So she climbed the hill again and, reëntering the cabin, began to stir with almost vicious energy the contents of a pot swinging in... more...

CHAPTER I A BIG GIFT FOR A SMALL MAID. “Well, of all things!” exclaimed Mrs. Betty Calvert, shaking her white head and tossing her hands in a gesture of amazement. Then, as the letter she had held fell to the floor, her dark eyes twinkled with amusement and she smilingly demanded: “Dorothy, do you want an elephant?” The girl had been reading her own letters, just come in the morning’s mail,... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE TRAIN “Maryland, my Maryland!” dreamily hummed Dorothy Calvert. “Not only your Maryland, but mine,” was the resolute response of the boy beside her. Dorothy turned on him in surprise. “Why, Jim Barlow, I thought nothing could shake your allegiance to old New York state; you’ve told me so yourself dozens of times, and—” “I know, Dorothy; I’ve thought so myself, but... more...

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