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Classics Books
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by:
Joan Clark
CHAPTER I Penny Nichols flung open the office door of the Nichols Detective Agency, descending upon a dignified, gray-haired man who was busy at his desk. "Dad," she announced, "I've come to report a mysterious disappearance!" Christopher Nichols dropped the correspondence upon which he was working and regarded his daughter for a moment, his gray eyes flashing an indulgent welcome....
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by:
Joan Clark
CHAPTER I Penny Nichols, hair flying in the wind, came running up the steps of the Altman porch. She did not need to ring the bell, for just at that moment Susan, her dark-haired chum, appeared in the open doorway. "Why, hello, Penny," greeted the Altman girl. "You're all out of breath." "I ran most of the way from home," replied Penny. "I was hoping you'd drop in...
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by:
O. Douglas
CHAPTER I "The actors are at hand, And by their show You shall know all that you are like to know." Midsummer Night's Dream. It was tea-time in Priorsford: four-thirty by the clock on a chillOctober afternoon. The hills circling the little town were shrouded with mist. The wide bridge that spanned the Tweed and divided the town proper—the Highgate, the Nethergate,...
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by:
Joan Clark
CHAPTER I A slightly decrepit roadster lurched to an abrupt halt in front of the Altman residence, and the blond, blue-eyed driver hailed a plump, dark-haired girl who stood on the front porch. "Hello, Susan. Been waiting long?" "Only about ten minutes, Penny." "I'm terribly sorry to be late, but I think we can still make it on time if we hurry." Before replying, Susan...
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On its surface the choice was an easy one—Doak Parker's career in Washington against a highly suspect country girl he had just met. Doak Parker was thinking of June, when the light flashed. He was thinking of the two months' campaign and the very probable probability of his knocking her off this week-end. It was going to be a conquest to rank among his best. It was going to be.... The...
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by:
Owen Wister
I By various influences and agents the Past is summoned before us, more vivid than a dream. The process seems as magical as those whereof we read in fairy legends, where circles are drawn, wands waved, mystic syllables pronounced. Adjured by these rites, voices speak, or forms and faces shape themselves from nothing. So, through certain influences, not magical at all, our brains are made to flash with...
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The Negro was kidnapped from the shores of Africa and brought into the Western Hemisphere at the beginning of the sixteenth century in order to meet the conditions growing out of an acute labor problem. The greedy and adventurous Spaniard had come to these shores in quest of gold, and after years of experiment he discovered that the Indian who lived in the islands and on the coast of the New World,...
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CHAPTER I THE SINS OF THE FATHER ARE VISITED ON THE CHILDREN The January afternoon was passing into night, the air was cold and still, so still that not a single twig of the naked beech-trees stirred; on the grass of the meadows lay a thin white rime, half frost, half snow; the firs stood out blackly against a steel-hued sky, and over the tallest of them hung a single star. Past these bordering firs...
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by:
Edgar Saltus
ROYAL," said the man's mother that evening, "are you still thinking of Fanny Price?" It was in Gramercy Park. As you may or may not know, Gramercy Park is the least noisy spot in the metropolitan Bedlam. Without being unreasonably aristocratic it is sedate and what agents call exclusive. The park itself is essentially that. Its design is rather English. The use is restricted to...
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by:
Mel Hunter
itting at his desk, Colonel Halter brought the images on the telescreen into focus. Four booster tugs were fastening, like sky-barnacles, onto the hull of the ancient derelict, Alpha. He watched as they swung her around, stern down, and sank with her through the blackness, toward the bluish-white, moon-lighted arc of Earth a thousand miles below. He pressed a button. The image of tugs and hull faded...
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