Mystery & Detective Books

CHAPTER I THE TENANT OF THE SILENT HOUSE Lucian Denzil was a briefless barrister, who so far departed from the traditions of his brethren of the long robe as not to dwell within the purlieus of the Temple. For certain private reasons, not unconnected with economy, he occupied rooms in Geneva Square, Pimlico; and, for the purposes of his profession, repaired daily, from ten to four, to Serjeant's... more...

CHAPTER I London that historic summer was almost unbearably hot. It seems, looking back, as though the big baking city in those days was meant to serve as an anteroom of torture—an inadequate bit of preparation for the hell that was soon to break in the guise of the Great War. About the soda-water bar in the drug store near the Hotel Cecil many American tourists found solace in the sirups and creams... more...

CHAPTER I PAUL HARLEY OF CHANCERY LANE Toward the hour of six on a hot summer's evening Mr. Paul Harley was seated in his private office in Chancery Lane reading through a number of letters which Innes, his secretary, had placed before him for signature. Only one more remained to be passed, but it was a long, confidential report upon a certain matter, which Harley had prepared for His... more...

CHAPTER II SEE THE EYES "Good evening, sir. A bit gusty?" "Very much so, sergeant," I replied. "I think I will step into your hut for a moment and light my pipe if I may." "Certainly, sir. Matches are too scarce nowadays to take risks with 'em. But it looks as if the storm had blown over." "I'm not sorry," said I, entering the little hut like a... more...

CHAPTER I PENNINGTON LAWTON AND THE GRIM REAPER Had New Illington been part of an empire instead of one of the most important cities in the greatest republic in the world, the cry “The King is dead! Long live the King!” might well have resounded through its streets on that bleak November morning when Pennington Lawton was found dead, seated quietly in his arm-chair by the hearth in the library,... more...

JARVIS OF KENTUCKY Down the winding roadway came the thunder of hoofbeats! As the two horsemen approached through the deepening twilight a sobbing negro woman peered timidly through the doorway of the old Southern manor house. There was a call from within. "Put out this light, Mandy," were the words of the weak voice. "Hurry, Mandy. Maybe it's the Marcums coming back." "Yas,... more...

CHAPTER I SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS The girl who was dying lay in an invalid chair piled up with cushions in a sheltered corner of the lawn. The woman who had come to visit her had deliberately turned away her head with a murmured word about the sunshine and the field of buttercups. Behind them was the little sanitarium, a gray stone villa built in the style of a château, overgrown with creepers, and... more...

LETTER I Concerning the journey. The unlawful demons invoked bycertain of the barbarians; their power and the manner oftheir suppression. Suppression. The incredible obtuseness ofthose who attend within tea-houses. The harmonious attitudeof a person of commerce. VENERATED SIRE (at whose virtuous and well-established feet an unworthy son now prostrates himself in spirit repeatedly),— Having at length... more...

CHAPTER ONE THE PRETTY PAWNBROKER On the southern edge of the populous parish of Paddington, in a parallelogram bounded by Oxford and Cambridge Terrace on the south, Praed Street on the north, and by Edgware Road on the east and Spring Street on the west, lies an assemblage of mean streets, the drab dulness of which forms a remarkable contrast to the pretentious architectural grandeurs of Sussex Square... more...

CHAPTER I. OURSELVES. WE were three quiet, lonely old men, and SHE was a lively, handsome young woman, and we were at our wits' end what to do with her. A word about ourselves, first of all—a necessary word, to explain the singular situation of our fair young guest. We are three brothers; and we live in a barbarous, dismal old house called The Glen Tower. Our place of abode stands in a hilly,... more...