Fiction Books

CHAPTER1 MIDNIGHT AT THE GATE After a long, tiring climb, the two friends, Penny Parker and Jerry Livingston, had reached the summit of Knob Hill, far above the city of Riverview. Now as they paused in the moonlight to catch their breath, the slim, golden-haired girl bent to adjust the irons of her skis before making a swift descent to the clearing below. “We’ll not have many more glorious skiing... more...

Chapter I EN ROUTE Likely enough, I would not have remained in Gafsa more than a couple of days. For it was my intention to go from England straight down to the oases of the Djerid, Tozeur and Nefta, a corner of Tunisia left unexplored during my last visit to that country—there, where the inland regions shelve down towards those mysterious depressions, the Chotts, dried-up oceans, they say, where in... more...

Henry Weller stood facing a huge three-dimensional picture on the wall of his dining room. "Can't we get rid of it?" he asked, turning to his wife. "I mean, with all due respect, of course." No man enjoys coming into his dining room and having to sit at meals and look at a full-sized picture of his wife's first husband arriving on Venus. Fair's fair, but such a set-up is... more...

PREFACE When in 1850 appeared the Report of the Secretary of War for the United States, containing Mr. J. H. Simpson's account of the Cliff Dwellings in Colorado, great surprise was awakened in America, and since then these remains have been investigated by many explorers, of whom I need only name Holmes' "Report of the Ancient Ruins in South-West Colorado during the Summers of 1875 and... more...

CHAPTER I THE SEA-FLOWER "What was it that I loved so well about my childhood's home?It was the wide and wave-lashed shore, the black rocks crowned with foam!It was the sea-gull's flapping wing, all trackless in its flight,Its screaming note, that welcomed on the fierce and stormy night!The wild heath had its flowers and moss, the forest had its trees,Which, bending to the evening wind,... more...

"Well, what do you think of them, Molly?" said Sir Duke Lawless to his wife, his eyes resting with some amusement on a big man and a little one talking to Lord Hampstead. "The little man is affected, gauche, and servile. The big one picturesque and superior in a raw kind of way. He wishes to be rude to some one, and is disappointed because, just at the moment, Lord Hampstead is too polite... more...

It was small wonder, said the knowing at Asquith, that Mr. Charles Wrexell Allen should be attracted by Irene Trevor. With the lake breezes of the north the red and the tan came into her cheeks, those boon companions of the open who are best won by the water-winds. Perhaps they brought, too, the spring to the step and the light under the long lashes when she flashed a look across the table. Little by... more...

CHAPTER I GREEN HAT, THE TROUBLE-STARTER "Dan," whispered Dave Darrin, Ensign, United States Navy, to his chum and brother officer, "do you see that fellow with the green Alpine hat and the green vest?" "Yes," nodded Dan Dalzell. "Watch him." "Why?" "He's a powerful brute, and it looks as though he's spoiling for a fight." "You are not going... more...

PREFACE The idea of this tale was taken from The Mariners’ Chronicle, compiled by a person named Scott early in the last century—a curious book of narratives of maritime adventures, with exceedingly quaint illustrations.  Nothing has ever shown me more plainly that truth is stranger than fiction, for all that is most improbable here is the actual fact. The Comte de Bourke was really an Irish... more...

CHAPTER I A Young Gentleman of Wealth and Fashion—a noble resolve—the flatterers—the Midnight Encounter—an Adventure—the Courtezan—Temptation triumphant—how the Night was passed. 'What a happy dog I ought to be!' exclaimed Frank Sydney, as he reposed his slippered feet upon the fender, and sipped his third glass of old Madeira, one winter's evening in the year 18—, in the... more...