CHAPTER I LLOYD MEETS HERO It was in Switzerland in the old town of Geneva. The windows of the big hotel dining-room looked out on the lake, and the Little Colonel, sitting at breakfast the morning after their arrival, could scarcely eat for watching the scene outside. Gay little pleasure boats flashed back and forth on the sparkling water. The quay and bridge were thronged with people. From open windows down the street came the tinkle of... more...

CHAPTER I “YOU––YOU SIMPLETON!” A sturdy boy in homespun, a lad of nearly fourteen years, whose eyes were clear and gray and whose face was resolute and honest, led his little sister by the hand, for she was small and the road was rough. “We’ll rest, ’Omi, when we come to the big tree. Are you cold?” he asked, for there was the chill of March in the wind, though the sun lay very warm in the... more...

MARY WARE'SPROMISED LANDPART ICHAPTER I A SEEKER OF NEW TRAILS When the Ware family boarded the train in San Antonio that September morning for their long journey back to Lone-Rock, every passenger on the Pullman straightened up with an appearance of interest. Somehow their arrival had the effect of a breath of fresh air blowing through the stuffy car. Even before their entrance some curiosity had been awakened by remarks which floated in from... more...

CHAPTER I AN AUTOMOBILE RIDE "Everybody ready?" "Yes, Dave; let her go!" cried Phil Lawrence. "How about you folks in the other auto?" queried Dave Porter, as he let off the hand brake and advanced the spark and lever of the machine he was about to run. "We are all ready," responded Roger Morr. "Been ready for an hour," added Ben Basswood, who sat beside Roger. "Oh, Ben, not quite as long as that!" burst out Laura Porter, who was one of... more...

THE WANDERER Blue Bonnet put her head out of the car window for the hundredth time that hour, and drew it back with a sigh of utter exasperation. "Uncle Cliff," she declared impatiently, "if The Wanderer doesn't move a little faster I'll simply have to get out and push!" "Better blame the engine, Honey," said Uncle Cliff in his slow, soothing way. "The Wanderer is doing her best. Might as well blame the wagon for not making the horses gallop!"... more...

THE WAIL OF THE WE ARE SEVENS Blue Bonnet raised the blind of the car window, which had been drawn all the afternoon to shut out the blazing sun, and took a view of the flying landscape. Then she consulted the tiny watch at her wrist and sat up with a start. "Grandmother!" she said excitedly, "we'll soon be in Woodford; that is, in just an hour. We're on time, you know. Hadn't we better be getting our things together?" Mrs. Clyde straightened... more...