Classics Books

CHAPTER I. HYDROPATHIC ACQUAINTANCES. We are at Como, on the lake—that spot so beloved of opera dancers—the day-dream of prima donnas—the Elysium of retired barytones! And with what reason should this be the Paradise of all who have lived and sighed, and warbled and pirouetted, within the charmed circle of the footlights? The crystal waters mirroring every cliff and crag with intense... more...

CHAPTER ONE The Man in Gray The four-faced clock over the information booth on the Upper Level of the Grand Central Station in New York City showed exactly twenty-five minutes after three. Dave Dawson paused in his restless pacing up and down to look at it for the hundredth time in the last half hour. He glared at it, sighed heavily, and made noises deep in his throat. "Where is that Freddy Farmer... more...

CHAPTER ONE Hitler Gives The Order! The first thing Dave Dawson saw when he woke up was the combination clock and calendar on the little table beside his bed. He stared at it sleepy eyed and tried to remember why he had put it where he would see it the very first thing when he opened his eyes. He knew there was some reason, an important one, but for the life of him he couldn't remember. He... more...

CHAPTER I WHY THE MIDSHIPMEN BALKED "So Tom Reade and Harry Hazelton have been here?" demanded MidshipmanDave Darrin. That handsome young member of the brigade of midshipmen at the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis was now in mufti, or cits,—meaning, in other words, that he was out of his Naval uniform and attired in the conventional clothing of a young American when calling... more...

THE YOUNG AVIATOR "Telegram, sir." "Who for?" "Dave Dashaway." "I'll take it." The messenger boy who had just entered the hangar of the great prize monoplane of the aero meet at Columbus, stared wonderingly about him while the man in charge of the place receipted for the telegram. The lad had never been in so queer a place before. He was a lively, active city boy,... more...

CHAPTER I A QUESTION OF MIDSHIPMAN HONOR "How can a midshipman and gentleman act in that way?" The voice of Midshipman David Darrin, United States Navy, vibrated uneasily as he turned to his comrades. "It's a shame—that's what it is," quivered Mr. Farley, also of the third class at the United States Naval Academy. "But the question is," propounded... more...

Chapter One. Unknown Cousins. “What is your letter, my dear? You seem annoyed. No bad news, I hope,” said the master of Chedworth Manor, looking across the table to where his wife eat behind the urn, frowning over the sheet which she held in her hand. She was a handsome, well-preserved woman, with aquiline features, thin lips, and eyes of a pale, indefinite blue. She looked up as he spoke, then... more...

HARRIET NEWELL, THE PROTO-MARTYR. Several centuries ago, the idea of driving out of Jerusalem its infidel inhabitants was suggested to a mad ecclesiastic. A shorn and dehumanized monk of Picardy, who had performed many a journey to that fallen city, who had been mocked and derided there as a follower of the Nazarene, whose heart burned beneath the wrongs and indignities which had been so freely heaped... more...

CHAPTER I READY FOR FIGHT OR FROLIC "Do you care to go out this evening, Danny boy?" asked Dave Darrin, stepping into his chum's room. "I'm too excited and too tired," confessed Ensign Dalzell. "The first thing I want is a hot bath, the second, pajamas, and the third, a long sleep." "Too bad," sighed Dave. "I wanted an hour's stroll along... more...

CHAPTER I WANTED—-A DOUGHFACE! "Now, then, Danny boy, we——-" First Classman Dave Darrin, midshipman at the United States NavalAcademy, did not finish what he was about to say. While speaking he had closed the door behind him and had stepped into the quarters occupied jointly by himself and by Midshipman Daniel Dalzell, also of the first or upper class. "Danny boy isn't here.... more...