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The Diamond Master by Jacques Futrelle
There were thirty or forty personally addressed letters, the daily heritage of the head of a great business establishment; and a plain, yellow-wrapped package about the size of a cigarette-box, some three inches long, two inches wide and one inch deep.
Elusive Isabel by Jacques Futrelle
So, this is Washington! And here at dinner are the diplomatic representatives of all the nations. That is the British ambassador, that stolid-faced, distinguished-looking, elderly man; and this is the French ambassador, dapper, volatile, plus-correct
The Problem of Cell 13 by Jacques Futrelle
Professor Van Dusen was remotely German. For generations his
ancestors had been noted in the sciences; he was the logical result,
the mastermind. First and above all he was a logician.
Problem of Convict No. 97 by Jacques Futrelle
"Glory be!" she exclaimed, and there was devotion in the
tone -- devotion to this eminent man of science whom she had served so
long. "What could have happened to the poor, poor man?"
A Piece of String by Jacques Futrelle
Somewhere near the center of a cloud of tobacco
smoke, which hovered over one corner of the long editorial room,
Hutchinson Hatch, reporter, was writing. The rapid click-click of his
type writer went on and on,
The Phantom Motor by Jacques Futrelle
He arose from a camp-stool where he was wont to make himself
comfortable from six o'clock until midnight on watch, picked up his
lantern, turned up the light and stepped down to the edge of the road.
Mystery of the Man Who Was Lost by Jacques Futrelle
The Thinking Machine was in the small laboratory of his modest
apartments at two o'clock in the afternoon. Martha, the scientist's
only servant, appeared at the door with a puzzled expression on her
wrinkled face.
Problem of the Lost Radium by Jacques Futrelle
ne ounce of radium! Within his open palm Professor Dexter held
practically the world's entire supply of that singular and seemingly
inexhaustible force which was, and is, one of the greatest of all
scientific riddles.
The Tragedy of the Life Raft by Jacques Futrelle
Twas a shabby picture altogether -- old Peter Ordway in his office;
the man shriveled, bent, cadaverous, aquiline of feature, with skin
like parchment, and cunning, avaricious eyes; the room gaunt and
curtainless, with smoke-grimed windows, dusty, cheerless walls, and
threadbare carpet, worn through here and there to the rough flooring
beneath.
Problem of the Knotted Cord by Jacques Futrelle
But he looked upon it all with sightless eyes -- eyes which turned instinctively toward the light as the blind ever seek a ray through their enshrouding gloom. A grateful tang of salt air drifted in, and he breathed deeply of its fragrance.
Kidnapped Baby Blake, Millionaire by Jacques Futrelle
Douglas Blake, millionaire, sat flat on the floor and gazed with
delighted eyes at the unutterable beauties of a highly colored picture
book. He was only fourteen months old, and the picture book was quite
the most beautiful thing he had ever beheld.
Problem of the Interrupted Wireless by Jacques Futrelle
The young woman paused opposite the wireless office, and
thoughtfully conned over something on the slip of paper. Finally she
leaned against the wall, erased a word with a pencil, wrote in another,
then laid a hand on the knob of the door as if to enter.
Problem of the Hidden Million by Jacques Futrelle
The gray hand of Death had already left its ashen mark upon the wrinkled, venomous face of the old man, who lay huddled up in bed. Save for the feverishly brilliant eyes -- cunning, vindictive, hateful -- there seemed to be no spark of life in the aged form. The withered lips were mute, and the thin, yellow, claw-like hands lay helplessly outstretched on the white sheets.
The Haunted Bell by Jacques Futrelle
With bewilderment in his face Mr. Phillips sat down again. Then recurred to him one indisputable fact which precluded the possibility of all those things he had considered. There had been absolutely no movement -- that is, perceptible movement -- of the gong when the bell sounded.
Problem of the Green Eyed Monster by Jacques Futrelle
She passed through the door. He heard her step and the rustle of her
skirts in the hall, then he heard the front door open and close. For
some reason, not quite clear even to himself, it surprised him; she had
never done a thing like that before.
The Great Auto Mystery by Jacques Futrelle
He tied on his own mask with its bleary goggles, while Reid did the
same. The Green Dragon, a low, gasoline car of racing build, stood
panting impatiently, awaiting them at a side door of the hotel. Curtis
assisted Miss Melrose into the front seat and climbed in beside her
Mystery of the Golden Dagger by Jacques Futrelle
Clements went inside the house and must have remained there for half
an hour. When he came out his face was white, his lips quivered, and
the madness of terror was in his eyes.
The Chase of the Golden Plate by Jacques Futrelle
A Watteau Shepherdess was assisted out of an automobile by
Christopher Columbus and they came up the walk arm-in-arm, while a
Pierrette ran beside them laughing up into their faces.
Mystery of the Flaming Phantom by Jacques Futrelle
Thus attention was attracted to the latest creepy mystery of a small
town by the sea which in the past had not been wholly lacking in creepy mysteries.
Five Millions by Wireless by Jacques Futrelle
Hours passed. The coffee, untasted, grew cold. Motionless, the little man continued at his labors with tense eagerness in his narrow eyes, oblivious alike of the things about him, and of exhausted nature.
Mystery of the Fatal Cipher by Jacques Futrelle
The scientist sank back into his chair with his enormous yellow head
pillowed comfortably against the cushion and his long, steady fingers pressed tip to tip. He didn't even look at his pretty visitor. She had come to ask for information; he was willing to give it
The Problem of Dressing Room A by Jacques Futrelle
A casual remark by the distinguished scientist and logician, Professor Van Dusen, provoked the discussion. He had, in the past, caused bitter disputes by chance remarks
Problem of the Deserted House by Jacques Futrelle
And that was all. The voice was swallowed up suddenly in the deafening crack of an explosion of some sort -- a pistol shot! Involuntarily The Thinking Machine dodged.
Problem of the Crystal Gazer by Jacques Futrelle
The single human figure was a distinct contradiction of all else. It
was that of a man in evening dress, smoking. He was fifty, perhaps sixty, years old with the ruddy colour of one who has lived a great deal out of doors.
The Problem of the Broken Bracelet by Jacques Futrelle
The girl in the green mask leaned against the foot of the bed and
idly fingered a revolver which lay in the palm of her daintily gloved
hand. The dim glow of the night lamp enveloped her softly
The Problem of the Auto Cab by Jacques Futrelle
The inside of the cab was lighted brilliantly by the electric arc
outside, and Hatch had an opportunity of seeing the woman face to face
at close range. She was pretty; she was young; and she was well
dressed.
A Perfect Pair
Imagine if Islam and Christianity had learned
to work together back in 650 AD.
Imagine if the Christians had been patient enough
to teach the Muslims of the special character of Christ
and they had recognized the divine authority of Muhammad.
They would have made a perfect couple
because each had much of what the other needed.
Neither needed to feel inferior or superior
because it was the same message
with a different social slant.
Imagine if the Christians had looked hard enough
to recognize that Ali, Hasan and Husein
had prophetic powers and innate knowledge.
This would have given power to the minority Shia group
and would have shamed the ruling Sunni caliphs.
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Pages Updated On: 1-March--MMVII
Copyright © MMII -- MMVII ArthursClassicNovels.com

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