Fiction Books

MY LADY, It is hard, sitting here, to believe that, if I would call for a cab, I could be in St. James's Street in less than ten minutes of time. Nevertheless, it is true. I have proved it so many times. Soon I shall prove it for the last time. Better men than I will sit in this study and pace the lawn in the garden with the high walls. The lilies and laburnums and all the gay fellowship of... more...

THE PERFECT GUEST There are certain qualities that we all claim. We are probably wrong, of course, but we deceive ourselves into believing that, short as we may fall in other ways, we really can do this or that superlatively well. "I'll say this for myself," we remark, with an approving glance in the mirror, "at any rate I'm a good listener"; or, "Whatever I may not be,... more...

Chapter 1 If I speak of myself in this story, it is because I have been deeply involved in its startling events, events doubtless among the most extraordinary which this twentieth century will witness. Sometimes I even ask myself if all this has really happened, if its pictures dwell in truth in my memory, and not merely in my imagination. In my position as head inspector in the federal police... more...

CHAPTER I. PLAYING TRUANT A breezy morning after a night of rain. Fleecy clouds, some in massive folds and fantastic shape, some in small half-transparent wisps like sunlit ghosts, were driven rapidly across the blue. Hurrying shadows flecked the swelling bosom of the downs, and where the grass was long it rippled like a green sea, making rustling music. Overhead the larks fluttering upward,... more...

OUR HERO Two men were standing in front of the Empire Theatre on Broadway, at the outer edge of the sidewalk, amiably discussing themselves in the first person singular. It was late in September and somewhat early in the day for actors to be abroad, a circumstance which invites speculation. Attention to their conversation, which was marked by the habitual humility, would have convinced the listener... more...

AN HISTORICAL ROCKY-MOUNTAIN OUTPOST. GOING TO THE JUDGE'S. The day might have graced the month of June, so balmy was the air, so warmly shone the sun from a cloudless sky. But the snow-covered mountain-range whose base we were skirting, the leafless cottonwoods fringing the Fontaine qui Bouille and the sombre plains that stretched away to the eastern horizon told a different story. It was on one... more...

I. GAYETY AND DYNAMITE "BARINIA, the young stranger has arrived." "Where is he?" "Oh, he is waiting at the lodge." "I told you to show him to Natacha's sitting-room. Didn't you understand me, Ermolai?" "Pardon, Barinia, but the young stranger, when I asked to search him, as you directed, flatly refused to let me." "Did you explain to him that... more...

NATURAE by DOM ARBITER: That which is swiftest may speak first . LIGHTNING: My tardy twin Thunder , resent me not for my swiftness . Bear with me patiently . I was made to streak . Seen as jagged slender strands , flashing boorishly . A snippet of intensity . Tarry for a twinkling , then I?ll away unlike the sun who burns through the life of day . My bolts set afire inconspicuous shrubs of lowlands and... more...

A TERRIBLE ADVENTURE WITH HYENAS There are many mighty hunters, and most of them can tell of many very thrilling adventures personally undergone with wild beasts; but probably none of them ever went through an experience equalling that which Arthur Spencer, the famous trapper, suffered in the wilds of Africa. As the right-hand man of Carl Hagenbach, the great Hamburg dealer in wild animals, for whom... more...

SEND ROUND THE HAT Now this is the creed from the Book of the Bush—Should be simple and plain to a dunce:"If a man's in a hole you must pass round the hatWere he jail-bird or gentleman once." "Is it any harm to wake yer?" It was about nine o'clock in the morning, and, though it was Sunday morning, it was no harm to wake me; but the shearer had mistaken me for a deaf... more...