Fiction Books

MARY MINDS HER BUSINESS So that you may understand my heroine, I am going to write a preface and tell you about her forebears. In the latter part of the seventeenth century, there was a young blacksmith in our part of the country named Josiah Spencer. He had a quick eye, a quick hand and a quicker temper. Because of his quick eye he married a girl named Mary McMillan. Because of his quick hand, he was... more...

A Chance Shot Reddy and I were alone at the Lake beds. He sat outside the cabin, braiding a leather hat-band—eight strands, and the "repeat" figure—an art that I never could master. I sat inside, with a one-pound package of smoking tobacco beside me, and newspapers within reach, rolling the day's supply of cigarettes. Reddy stopped his story long enough to say: "Don't use... more...

The Gold-Miners of Minturne Creek. The “Susan Jane.” “Sail-ho on the weather-bow!” “What do you make it?” “Looks like a ship’s mast, with the yard attached, and a man a-holding on to it and hailing us for help—leastways, that’s what it seems to me!” “Jerusalem! On the weather-bow, you say? Can we forereach him on this tack?” “I reckon we can jist about do it, boss, if you... more...

BELLIGERENT POWERS. Tuesday morning dawned "as clear as a bell," as an old lady once said, and the Dashahed Zouaves, if not exactly up with the sun, were awake and stirring at a much earlier hour than usual; and after a rather more careful washing and brushing than soldiers usually indulge in, assembled on the lawn, looking as bright as their own buttons. "What fun it is to be... more...

CHAPTER I THE GREAT SEA WATERSGray sky, brown waters, as a bird that fliesMy heart flits forth to these;Back to the winter rose of Northern skies,Back to the Northern seas.The sea is His, and He made it. I saw a man of God coming over the narrow zigzag path that led across a Shetland peat moss. Swiftly and surely he stepped. Bottomless bogs of black peat-water were on each side of him, but he had... more...

CHAPTER I. MORNING DISPUTE AND EVENING CONTENTION. "My sweet friend," said Judge Frank, in a tone of vexation, "it is not worth while reading aloud to you if you keep yawning incessantly, and looking about, first to the right and then to the left;" and with these words he laid down a treatise of Jeremy Bentham, which he had been reading, and rose from his seat. "Ah, forgive me, dear... more...

THE township of Haverhill, even as late as the close of the seventeenth century, was a frontier settlement, occupying an advanced position in the great wilderness, which, unbroken by the clearing of a white man, extended from the Merrimac River to the French villages on the St. Francois. A tract of twelve miles on the river and three or four northwardly was occupied by scattered settlers, while in the... more...

CHAPTER ITHE ADVENTURE IN THE COULIE The report of a bird gun made the single rider in sight upon the short-grassed plain pull in her pinto and gaze westerly toward the setting sun, now going down in a field of golden glory. The pinto stood like a statue, and its rider seemed a part of the steed, so well did she sit in her saddle. She gazed steadily under her hand–gazed and listened. Finally, she... more...

The kids who tried to jump Mike the Angel were bright enough in a lot of ways, but they made a bad mistake when they tangled with Mike the Angel. They’d done their preliminary work well enough. They had cased the job thoroughly, and they had built the equipment to take care of it. Their mistake was not in their planning; it was in not taking Mike the Angel into account. There is a section of New... more...

OLD SPOOKSES' PASS. I. We'd camp'd that night on Yaller Bull Flat—  Thar was Possum Billy, an' Tom, an' me.Right smart at throwin' a lariat  Was them two fellers, as ever I see;An' for ridin' a broncho, or argyin' squar  With the devil roll'd up in the hide of a mule,Them two fellers that camp'd with me thar  Would hev made an'... more...