Action & Adventure Books

CHAPTER I THE RUNAWAY CAR "The boys will be here in five minutes!" cried Mollie Billette, bursting in upon her friend, dark hair flying and eyes alight. "You'd better get on your hat." "What boys and why the hat?" returned Grace Ford who, pretty and graceful, as always, was provokingly calm. "I'll answer any and everything if you will only get ready. Oh, have you... more...

Sleeping in Snow. Cold comfort is naturally suggested by a bed of snow, yet I have enjoyed great comfort and much warmth in such a bed. My friend Lumley was particularly fond of warmth and of physical ease, yet he often expressed the opinion, with much emphasis, that there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a night in a snow-bed. Jack Lumley was my chum—a fine manly fellow with a vigorous will, a... more...

Over Yonder. It was very, very hot. That is to say, it was as hot as it knows how to be in Johnstown, Guiana, which means a damp, sticky, stifling kind of heat. The sun made the muddy river look oily, and the party of three seated under the great fig-tree which shaded the boarding-house by the wharf seemed as if they were slowly melting away like so much of the sugar of which the wharves and warehouses... more...

It is the pleasant twilight hour, and Frank and Harry Chilton are in their accustomed seat by their mother's side in the old sofa, that same comfortable old sofa, which might have listened to many pleasant and interesting stories that will never be told. Mother, said Frank, you have often promised us that some time you would tell us about your travels in Europe. This is a good stormy evening, and... more...

In which the Reader is introduced to a Mad Hero, a Reckless Lover, and a Runaway Husband—Backwoods Juvenile Training described—The Principles of Fighting fully discussed, and some valuable Hints thrown out. March Marston was mad! The exact state of madness to which March had attained at the age when we take up his personal history—namely, sixteen—is uncertain, for the people of the backwoods... more...

The Tale Begins with the Engaging of a “Tail”—and the Captain Delivers his Opinions on Various Subjects. Captain Dunning stood with his back to the fireplace in the back-parlour of a temperance coffee-house in a certain town on the eastern seaboard of America. The name of that town is unimportant, and, for reasons with which the reader has nothing to do, we do not mean to disclose it. Captain... more...

In which the Hero makes his First Flash and Explosion. Somewhere about the middle of this nineteenth century, a baby boy was born on the raging sea in the midst of a howling tempest. That boy was the hero of this tale. He was cradled in squalls, and nourished in squalor—a week of dirty weather having converted the fore-cabin of the emigrant ship into something like a pig-sty. Appreciating the... more...

Coffee and Chicory, but not for Breakfast. “Just look at him, Dick. Be quiet; don’t speak.” “Oh, the dirty sunburnt little varmint! I’d like the job o’ washing him.” “If you say another word, Dinny, I’ll give you a crack with your own stick.” “An’ is it meself would belave you’d hurt your own man Dinny wid a shtick, Masther Jack? Why ye wouldn’t knock a fly off me.”... more...

The Wreck in the Bay. On a dark November afternoon, not many years ago, Captain Boyns sat smoking his pipe in his own chimney-corner, gazing with a somewhat anxious expression at the fire. There was cause for anxiety, for there raged at the time one of the fiercest storms that ever blew on the shores of England. The wind was howling in the chimney with wild fury; slates and tiles were being swept off... more...

CHAPTER I "Marry Mr. Bulmer! That horrid old man! Uncle, what are you saying?" The girl sprang to her feet as if she were some timid creature of the wild aroused from sylvan broodings by knowledge of imminent danger. In her terror, she upset the three wineglasses that formed part of the display beside each couvert on the luncheon table. One, rose-tinted and ornate, crashed to the floor, and the... more...