Fiction Books

FLYING. “What’s that below, Hal?” The speaker was Chester Crawford, an American lad of some 16 years. Hal Paine allowed his eyes to turn from the steering wheel and glanced over the side of the flying aëroplane. “I don’t see anything,” he replied, after a careful scrutiny below. “Neither do I, now,” said Chester, straining his eyes. At this moment the third occupant of the machine made... more...

CHAPTER I A REUNION "Here, Harry, catch hold." "Ouch—I dropped that cartridge box on my pet corn." "Say, you fellows, are we going to Africa or are we on a ConeyIsland picnic?" "Be serious now, Billy Barnes, you may be all right as a reporter, but as a shipping clerk you're no more good than a cold storage egg." "Well, I'm doing the best I can," was... more...

CHAPTER I. THE POLAR SHIP. "Oh, it's southward ho, where the breezes blow; we're off for the pole, yo, ho! heave ho!" "Is that you, Harry?" asked a lad of about seventeen, without looking up from some curious-looking frames and apparatus over which he was working in the garage workshop back of his New York home on Madison Avenue. "Ay! ay! my hearty," responded his... more...

CHAPTER I JACK'S ADVENTURE Frank Chadwick jumped from a chair in the front window and ran toward the door. A form had swung from the sidewalk along the drive that marked the entrance to Lord Hasting's London home and at sight of it Frank had uttered an exclamation. Now, as the figure climbed the steps, Frank flung open the door. "Jack!" he exclaimed with outstretched hand. "I... more...

Chapter I "How is he now, doctor? Don't—don't tell me there is no hope!" The wife, a tall, aristocratic looking woman who, despite her advanced years, her snow-white hair, her eyes now red and swollen from weeping, and pallid face seamed with careworn lines from constant vigils, still showed traces of former beauty, scanned the physician fearfully, trying to read in the expression... more...

I. "Love, that old song, of which the world is never weary." It was one of those beautiful, lengthening days, when May was pressing back with both hands the shades of the morning and the evening; May in New York one hundred and twenty-one years ago, and yet the May of A.D. 1886,—the same clear air and wind, the same rarefied freshness, full of faint, passing aromas from the wet earth and the... more...

CHAPTER I. THE TWO COMRADES. "War has been declared, mother!" shouted Hal, as closely followed by his friend, Chester Crawford, he dashed into the great hotel in Berlin, where the three were stopping, and made his way through the crowd that thronged the lobby to his mother's side. "Yes, mother, it's true," continued Hal, seeing the look of consternation on Mrs. Paine's... more...

CHAPTER I James Crawshay, Englishman of the type usually described in transatlantic circles as "some Britisher," lolled apparently at his ease upon the couch of the too-resplendent sitting room in the Hotel Magnificent, Chicago. Hobson, his American fellow traveler, on the other hand, betrayed his anxiety by his nervous pacing up and down the apartment. Both men bore traces in their appearance... more...

CHAPTER I H.M.S. "QUEEN MARY" A great, long, gray shape moved swiftly through the waters of the Thames. Smoke, pouring from three different points in the middle of this great shape, ascended, straight in the air some distance, then, caught by the wind, drifted westward. It was growing dark. Several hours before, this ocean greyhound—one of Great Britain's monster... more...

CHAPTER I IN THE MEDITERRANEAN "Boom! Boom!" Thus spoke the two forward guns on the little scout cruiserH.M.S. Sylph, Lord Hasting, commander. "A hit!" cried Jack, who, from his position in the pilot house, had watched the progress of the missiles hurled at the foe. "Good work!" shouted Frank, his excitement so great that he forgot the gunners were unable to hear him. "Boom!... more...