CHAPTER I In dim twilight a spark of life glittered, glinted like a bit of mica catching the sun, on a vast face of gray cliff above a dead gray sea. There was nothing else in the world but the vastness and the grayness of the cliff and the sea, till the spark felt the faint thrill of warmth which gave to it the knowledge of its own life. “I am alive,” the whisper stirred, far down in the depths of consciousness. Next the question... more...

THE FOURTH MAN The raft might have been taken for a swath of cut sedge or a drifting tangle of roots as it slid out of the shadowy river mouth at dawn and dipped into the first ground swell. But while the sky brightened and the breeze came fresh offshore it picked a way among shoals and swampy islets with purpose and direction, and when at last the sun leaped up and cleared his bright eye of the morning mist it had passed the wide entrance to... more...

CHAPTER I THE WHITE CHIEF OF KATLEEAN It was quiet in the great store room of the Alaska Fur and Trading Company's post at Kat-lee-an. The westering sun streaming in through a side window lighted up shelves of brightly labeled canned goods and a long, scarred counter piled high with gay blankets and men's rough clothing. Back of the big, pot-bellied stove—cold now—that stood near the center of the room, lidless boxes of hard-tack... more...

CHAPTER I PRESENTIMENT The man was short and fat, and greasy above the dark beard line. In addition, he was bowlegged as a greyhound, and just now he moved with a limp as though very footsore. His coarse blue flannel shirt, open at the throat, exposed a broad hairy chest that rose and fell mightily with the effort he was making. And therein lay the mystery. The sun was hot—with the heat of a cloudless August sun at one o'clock of the... more...

Fra Rafael saw strange things, impossible things. Then there was the mystery of the seven young virginal girls of Huascan.   Fra Rafael drew the llama-wool blanket closer about his narrow shoulders, shivering in the cold wind that screamed down from Huascan. His face held great pain. I rose, walked to the door of the hut and peered through fog at the shadowy haunted lands that lifted toward the sky—the Cordilleras that make a... more...

CHAPTER ONE “THE WHISPERING VOICE” In the greatest city of the modern world, in the Metropolis of Guilt and Guile—where Alias and Alibi ride in gum-shod limousines while Mary Smith of the pure heart walks the pavements with broken shoes—there is a mansion so rich and so rare that it stands alone. Turret and tower, green-bronze roof, Cararra-marbled portico and iron-grilled gates brought from Hyderabad, have made this... more...

WHITE ASHES CHAPTER I On the top floor of one of the lesser office buildings in the insurance district of lower New York, a man stood silent before a map desk on which was laid an opened map of the burned city. No other man was in the office, for this was on a Sunday; but it would not have mattered to the man at the map had the big room presented its usual busy appearance. All that went on about him would have passed his notice; he only gazed... more...

WHITE QUEEN OF THE CANNIBALS The Story of Mary Slessor of Calabar by A.J. BUELTMANN Contents 1. A Drunkard's Home 2. A Brave Girl 3. In Africa 4. On Her Own 5. Into the Jungle 6. A Brave Nurse 7. Witchcraft 8. The Poison Test 9. Victories for Mary 10. A Disappointment 11. Clouds and Sunshine 12. Among the Cannibals 13. Blessings Unnumbered 14. Journey's End #1# A Drunkard's Home "On the west coast of Africa is the country of Nigeria. The... more...

NICHOLAS NEKRASSOV: A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE Western Europe has only lately begun to explore the rich domain of Russian literature, and is not yet acquainted with all even of its greatest figures. Treasures of untold beauty and priceless value, which for many decades have been enlarging and elevating the Russian mind, still await discovery here. Who in England, for instance, has heard the names of Saltykov, Uspensky, or Nekrassov? Yet Saltykov is... more...

WHO GOES THERE? I THE ADVANCE "Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm."--Shakespeare. In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It was July 16, 1861. The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia." I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these orders, except two things:-- First, to be surprised would be unpardonable.... more...