Fiction Books

THE ANCIENT HOME OF THE SESHAHTS To the lone Indian, who slowly paddles his canoe upon the waters of this western sound, each tree of different kind by shade of green and shape of crown is known; the Toh-a-mupt or Sitca spruce with scaley bark and prickly spine; the feathery foliage of the Quilth-kla-mupt, the western hemlock, relieved in spring by the light green of tender shoots. The frond-like... more...

INTRODUCTION My Dear Boys: This is a complete story in itself, but forms the sixteenth volume issued under the general title of "Rover Boys Series for Young Americans." This line was started thirteen years ago by the publication of the first three volumes, "The Rover Boys at School," "On the Ocean," and "In the Jungle." I hoped that the young people would like the... more...

I Mrs Brindeley looked across the lunch-table at her husband with glinting, eager eyes, which showed that there was something unusual in the brain behind them. "Bob," she said, factitiously calm. "You don't know what I've just remembered!" "Well?" said he. "It's only grandma's birthday to-day!" My friend Robert Brindley, the architect, struck the... more...

The novella delves into several key points:  Never believe in someone blindly; ensure their trustworthiness before placing your faith in them to avoid disappointment.  If someone trusts you, strive to maintain that trust and never betray the faith they have in you.  Avoid unnecessarily complicated relationships due to misunderstandings or rash judgments.  Cultivate a strong character that withstands... more...

Chapter I. Life in Martinique. A.D. 1760-A.D. 1775Martinique.Its varied beauties.The island of Martinique emerges in tropical luxuriance from the bosom of the Caribbean Sea. A meridian sun causes the whole land to smile in perennial verdure, and all the gorgeous flowers and luscious fruits of the torrid zone adorn upland and prairie in boundless profusion. Mountains, densely wooded, rear their summits... more...

Evan Winford leaned wearily against the controls of the little space sphere, and stared out of the window at the planet, Mercury, which lay a million miles sunward. Fail now? He gritted his teeth. No! He would wrench victory from Fate after all, even though at this moment mine guards must be searching the nearby mountains, for him and his companions, and a warning was being broadcast to all the planets... more...

Preface. The historical portion of this tale has been partially narrated in one of my previous volumes, “In All Time of our Tribulation,” in which the Despenser story is begun, and its end told from another point of view. That volume left Isabelle of France at the height of her ambition, in the place to reach which she had been plotting so long and so unscrupulously. Here we see the Nemesis come... more...

The patient sat stiffly in the leather chair on the other side of the desk. Nervously he pressed a coin into the palm of one hand. "Just start anywhere," I said, "and tell me all about it." "As before?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, the coin clutched tightly in one hand. "I'm Charles J. Fisher, professor of Philosophy at Reiser College." He looked at... more...

CHAPTER I A MAKER OF MAPS There was a rustle in the bushes, the sound of twigs snapping, a soft foot-fall on the dead leaves. Marche stopped, took his pipe out of his mouth, and listened. Patter! patter! patter! over the crackling underbrush, now near, now far away in the depths of the forest; then sudden silence, the silence that startles. He turned his head warily, right, left; he knelt noiselessly,... more...

In the Paris evening papers of Tuesday, February 28, 1866, under the head of Local Items, the following announcement appeared: "A daring robbery, committed against one of our most eminent bankers, M. Andre Fauvel, caused great excitement this morning throughout the neighborhood of Rue de Provence. "The thieves, who were as skilful as they were bold, succeeded in making an entrance to the bank,... more...