Fiction Books

FIRE QUARTERS. "Four bells, sir!" reported the messenger-boy, to the officer who had charge of the deck of the Storm King. "Very good. Quartermaster, make it so." The silvery tones of the little bell rang through the vessel, and immediately there began a great noise and hubbub on the berth-deck, which, but a moment before, had been so quiet and orderly. Songs, shouts of laughter, and... more...

CHAPTER I. TWO BLACK EYES AND THEIR WORK. he early express train from Montreal to Portland, Maine, was crowded. Mr. Richard Gilbert, lawyer, of New York, entering five minutes before starting time, found just one seat unoccupied near the door. A crusty old farmer held the upper half, and moved grumpily toward the window, under protest, as Mr. Gilbert took the place. The month was March, the morning... more...

PREFACE. ———— The history of the symbol of the cross has had an attraction for the author ever since, as an enquiring youth, he found himself unable to obtain satisfactory answers to four questions concerning the same which presented themselves to his mind. The first of those questions was why John the Baptist, who was beheaded before Jesus was executed, and so far as we are told never had... more...

(I) "I think you're behaving like an absolute idiot," said Jack Kirkby indignantly. Frank grinned pleasantly, and added his left foot to his right one in the broad window-seat. These two young men were sitting in one of the most pleasant places in all the world in which to sit on a summer evening—in a ground-floor room looking out upon the Great Court of Trinity College, Cambridge. It... more...

If there was one thing Dr. Kalmar hated, and there were many, it was having a new assistant fresh from a medical school on Earth. They always wanted to change things. They never realized that a planet develops its own techniques to meet its own requirements, which are seldom similar to those of any other world. Dr. Kalmar never got along with his assistants and he didn't expect to get along with... more...

CHAPTER I. THE TWO MEET "Well, good-bye, Dyck. I'll meet you at the sessions, or before that at the assizes." It was only the impulsive, cheery, warning exclamation of a wild young Irish spirit to his friend Dyck Calhoun, but it had behind it the humour and incongruity of Irish life. The man, Dyck Calhoun, after whom were sent the daring words about the sessions and the assizes, was a year... more...

Preface "Uncle, why don't you write the story of your life?" So says my nephew Tom to me when he comes in and finds me sitting in a brown study before a comfortable fire. I have finally granted his request, for I have spent many an hour in relating my thrilling adventures to him and am sure that he has enjoyed them and even profited by them. Thus have I been persuaded to write this little... more...

CHAPTER I Andrew Tallente stepped out of the quaint little train on to the flower-bedecked platform of this Devonshire hamlet amongst the hills, to receive a surprise so immeasurable that for a moment he could do nothing but gaze silently at the tall, ungainly figure whose unpleasant smile betrayed the fact that this meeting was not altogether accidental so far as he was concerned. "Miller!" he... more...

THE CLASH OF RACE In the King's House at Spanish Town the governor was troubled. All his plans and prophecies had come to naught. He had been sure there would be no rebellion of the Maroons, and he was equally sure that his career would be made hugely successful by marriage with Sheila Llyn—but the Maroons had revolted, and the marriage was not settled! Messages had been coming from the... more...

INTRODUCTION BY H.G. WELLS "'But do I see afore me, him as I ever sported with in his times of happy infancy? And may I—may I?' "This May I, meant might he shake hands?" —DICKENS, Great Expectations. I do not know why I should be so overpoweringly reminded of the immortal, if at times impossible, Uncle Pumblechook, when I sit down to write a short preface to Mr.... more...