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Portrait of a Man with Red Hair
by Hugh WalpoleThe soul of Charles Percy Harkness slipped, like a neat white pocket-handkerchief, out through the carriage window into the silver-blue air, hung there changing into a tiny white fleck against the immensity, struggling for escape above the purple-pointed trees of the dark wood, then, realising that escape was not yet, fluttered back into the carria..
Stepping Westward
by M. E. FrancisThe wayside hedgerow, gay with its autumn tints, stretched its undulating length beside the rather stony lane that wound upwards from the high road, and lost itself amid a multiplicity of sheep-tracks on the down. It was one of those mild days that here in the south country cheat the fancy with their likeness, not merely to spring, but to summer.&n..
1914
by John OxenhamHE early morning of July 25th, 1914, was not at all such as the date might reasonably have led one to expect. It was gray and overcast, with heavy dew lying white on the grass and a quite unseasonable rawness in the air.The clock on the mantelpiece of the morning-room in The Red House, Willstead, was striking six, in the sonorous Westminster chimes..
Battle for the Stars
by Alexander BladeThere was a narrow cleft between cliffs of stars, with the flame-shot glow of an immense nebula roofing it. The only possible way into the heart of the cluster, this Dragon's Throat of starman legend. But others had gone in this way. At least, so said the rumors, rumors that had reached the squadron as far away as the Pleiades. Rumors too factual, ..
The Prize
by Sydney C. GrierThe scene was a picture in itself. Sea and sky vied with one another in the depth of their unruffled blue, and in the glorious sunshine and clear air the cliffs were vividly, even startlingly, white. All round the island they presented an inhospitable front to the voyager save at one point, where advantage had been taken of a steep ravine running d..
A Prevaricated Parade
by W. C. TuttleOld man Whittaker owns the Cross J, Hank Padden the Seven A, and Scenery Sims is the possessor of the Circle S outfit and the squeakiest voice ever anchored in the throat of a human being. Every time I hears Scenery start to talk I pray for cylinder oil or chloroform. Me? I’m Henry Clay Peck. I work for old man Whittaker. I ain’t got nothing but a ..
Shadow in the House
by Sinclair GluckOn one side at least, the dinner party had been marked by a sort of ebullient reticence. Landis and Elsa had returned two days since from their honeymoon and were still feeling a little dignified and unique. Erect and formidable in her stiff chair, Mrs. Paul Bernard appraised the radiance of her niece and found it genuine. Her direct regard sw..
The Plot That Failed
by Nicholas CarterNick Carter stands for an interesting detective story. The fact that the books in this line are so uniformly good is entirely due to the work of a specialist. The man who wrote these stories produced no other type of fiction. His mind was concentrated upon the creation of new plots and situations in which his hero emerged triumphantly from all sort..