Halfway up the shining surface of the gilt-framed pier glass was a mark—a tiny ink-line that had been carefully drawn across the outer edge of the wide bevel. As Gwendolyn stared at the line, the reflection of her small face in the mirror grew suddenly all white, as if some rude hand had reached out and brushed away the pink from cheeks and lips. Arms rigid at her sides, and open palms pressed hard... more...

CHAPTER I. Near the end of July, 1842, an open calèche might have been seen rolling along one of the three highways that lead from the frontiers of Holland toward Antwerp. Although the vehicle had evidently been cleaned with the utmost care, every thing about it betokened decay. Its joints were open, discolored, and weather-beaten, and it swung from side to side on its springs like a rickety skeleton.... more...

CHAPTER I A LECTURE OF THENARD’S The sun was setting over Paris, a blood-red and violent-looking sun, like the face of a bully staring in at the window of a vast chill room. The bank of cloud above the west, corrugated by the wind, seemed not unlike the lowermost slats of a Venetian blind; one might have fancied that a great finger had tilted them up whilst the red, callous, cruel face took a last... more...

Chapter 1.I There were times when we had to go without puddings to pay John's uniform bills, and always I did the facings myself with a cloth-ball to save getting new ones. I would have polished his sword, too, if I had been allowed; I adored his sword. And once, I remember, we painted and varnished our own dog-cart, and very smart it looked, to save fifty rupees. We had nothing but our pay—John... more...

CHAPTER I A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR "Boys! B-o-y-s!" There was no response to the imperative summons. Professor Zepplin sat up in his cot, listening intently. Something had awakened him suddenly, but just what he was unable to decide. "Be quiet over there, young men," he admonished, adding in a lower tone, "I'm sure I heard some one moving about." The camp of the Pony Rider Boys... more...

CHAPTER I WESTWARD, HO! "Ow, Wow, Wow, Wow! Y-E-O-W!" Tad Butler, who was industriously chopping wood at the rear of the woodshed of his home, finished the tough, knotted stick before looking up. The almost unearthly chorus of yells behind him had not even startled the boy or caused him to cease his efforts until he had completed what he had set out to do. This finished, Tad turned a smiling... more...

IN THE LAND OF THE COWBOY "What's that?" "Guns, I reckon." "Sounds to me as if the town were being attacked. Just like war time, isn't it?" "Never having been to war, I can't say. But it's a noise all right." The freckle-faced boy, sitting on his pony with easy confidence, answered his companion's questions absently. After a careless glance up... more...

CHUNKY'S NEW IDEA Three of the ponies, they found, had been knocked down and so severely shocked that they were only just beginning to regain consciousness. "Why didn't you tell us?" demanded Ned, turning on Stacy savagely. "You wouldn't let me. Maybe next time I've got an idea, you'll stop and listen." Kris Kringle's face wore a broad grin. "Master... more...

CHAPTER ITHROUGH ENCHANTING WATERS “Captain, who are the four silent men leaning over the rail on the other side of the boat?” asked Tad Butler. “I have been wondering about them almost ever since we left Vancouver. They don’t seem to speak to a person, and seldom to each other, though somehow they appear to be traveling in company. They act as if they were afraid someone would recognize them.... more...

CHAPTER I. ARAIM. Occasionally they are long-lived, these descendants of the good Joel, who, five hundred and fifty years ago and more lived in this identical region, near the sacred stones of the forest of Karnak. Yes, the descendants of the good Joel are, occasionally, long-lived, seeing that I, Araim, who to-day trace these lines in the seventy-seventh year of my life, saw my grandfather Gildas die... more...