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The death of Robert Gleason, a wealthy businessman from Seattle, at first looked like a suicide. He had called his doctor saying that he was shot, and when the doctor arrived at his New York apartment, the door was locked. After breaking down the door, his body was found lying on the floor, a revolver at his side. Yet certain facts argued against a verdict of suicide. Gleason had been shot twice, once shot to the temple, which killed him instantly, and a second shot, after he was dead, to the shoulder. How could he have made a phone call after he was already dead? A web of conflicting clues and dubious alibis baffle the police until detective Pennington Wise and his mysterious assistant Zizi are called in to solve the case.
""Christmas Caroling"" is a heartwarming holiday story by Carolyn Wells. The book follows the adventures of a group of friends who decide to spread Christmas cheer by going caroling around their neighborhood. As they sing their way through the streets, they encounter various challenges and obstacles, including grumpy neighbors, bad weather, and a lost dog. But with their enthusiasm and determination, the carolers manage to overcome these obstacles and bring joy to everyone they meet. Along the way, they also learn valuable lessons about the true meaning of Christmas and the importance of kindness and generosity. With its charming characters, festive setting, and uplifting message, ""Christmas Caroling"" is the perfect book to read during the holiday season.1913. Wells, prolific American writer remembered largely for her popular mysteries, children's books, and humorous verse. A little known volume of verse about Christmas by Wells.This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the old original and may contain some imperfections such as library marks and notations. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions, that are true to their original work.
A locked-room mystery is solved by detective Fleming Stone. Sanford Embury refused to give his wife an allowance of spending cash or even a checking account. He pays all the bills and her store charge accounts. "Eunice found it intolerable to be cramped and pinched for small amounts of ready cash, when her husband was a rich man." "Eunice Embury was neither mean nor spiteful of disposition. She had a furious temper, but she tried hard to control it, and when it did break loose, the spasm was but of short duration and she was sorry for it afterward. Her husband declared he had tamed her, and that since her marriage, about two years ago, his wise, calm influence had curbed her tendency to fly into a rage and had made her far more equable and placid of disposition." Sanford is found dead in bed, alone, with the door of his second-story bedroom bolted shut from the inside. Was his wife a party to the murder, or perhaps did she commit the murder in a fit of rage? Who else had a motive? How does Sanford make all that money? How could the murderer do the deed if the room was locked from the inside? The clue that leads to the discovery of the murderer and the devious method used is - you guessed it - some raspberry jam. We are delighted to publish this classic book as part of our extensive Classic Library collection. Many of the books in our collection have been out of print for decades, and therefore have not been accessible to the general public. The aim of our publishing program is to facilitate rapid access to this vast reservoir of literature, and our view is that this is a significant literary work, which deserves to be brought back into print after many decades. The contents of the vast majority of titles in the Classic Library have been scanned from the original works. To ensure a high quality product, each title has been meticulously hand curated by our staff. Our philosophy has been guided by a desire to provide the reader with a book that is as close as possible to ownership of the original work. We hope that you will enjoy this wonderful classic work, and that for you it becomes an enriching experience.
The cozy college town of Corinth, New England is the setting for this classic locked-room mystery by Carolyn Wells, author of The Clue. All entrances to the study where the body was found were locked from the inside. The future college president and groom-to-be had no known cause for suicide, yet no clues point to a murder. Was Anita, the eponymous Mystery Girl, who is rumored to have been romantically involved with the dead man, somehow implicated in his death? Love letters between the two of them point to her potential guilt. And yet she seems incapable of such a crime. It's up to Detective Fleming Stone to decipher the story's twin puzzles; the mystery of the locked-room death and the true nature of ... The Mystery Girl.
This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!
When the wealthy financier Joseph Crawford is found dead in the study of his home in West Sedgwick the only clue is the ladies gold evening bag on his desk. But does the bag indicate an unknown late night lady visitor as the murderer? Or does it point to his niece, Florence Lloyd, who Crawford had threatened to disinherit, or to his secretary, Gregory Hall, whose engagement to his niece was the cause of the disinheritance. With a paucity of clues, the case seems impossible of solution, impossible, that is, until that famous detective, Fleming Stone, arrives on the scene to reveal the murderer with one brilliant deduction.
Do you love mystery stories, such as the Sherlock Holmes stories and those of Edgar Allan Poe and Agatha Christie? Do you ever yearn to be a good writer of mysteries? Carolyn Wells was a prolific author of mystery novels. In this detailed book, she teaches the history, types, principles, devices, plots, and structures of mystery writings. She gives advice to would-be authors of this genre, including ghost and riddle stories as well as detective and crime mysteries.
This scarce antiquarian book is a selection from Kessinger Publishing's Legacy Reprint Series. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment to protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature. Kessinger Publishing is the place to find hundreds of thousands of rare and hard-to-find books with something of interest for everyone!
Carolyn Wells (June 18, 1862 - March 26, 1942) was an American author and poet. Born in Rahway, New Jersey, she was the daughter of William E. and Anna Wells. She died at the Flower-Fifth Avenue Hospital in New York City in 1942. -wikipedia
"Patty, Patty, pit-a-pat, Grinning like a Chessy Cat, if you don't stop looking so everlasting cheerful, I'll throw something at you!" "Throw," returned Patty, as her grin perceptibly and purposely widened to the full extent of her scarlet lips. "All right!" and Elise threw a sofa cushion and another and another, following them up with a knitted afghan, a silk slumber robe, and then beginning on a pile of newspapers. Patty, who was lounging on a broad divan, protected her face with a down pillow, and contentedly endured the avalanche. Then, as the enemy's stock of missiles gave out, she sat up, flinging the impedimenta right and left, and her smiling face and tumbled curls triumphantly braved further assault. "It's snowing like the very dickens," Elise declared, disconsolately. "I don't see any snow," and Patty shut her blue eyes tight. "Of course you don't, you old goose! If a roaring Bengal tiger stood in front of you, with full intent of eating you at once, you'd shut your eyes and say, 'There isn't any tiger there.' That is, if you had time to get the words out before you slipped down his throat."
Carolyn Wells (June 18, 1862 - March 26, 1942) was an American author and poet. Born in Rahway, New Jersey, she was the daughter of William E. and Anna Wells. She died at the Flower-Fifth Avenue Hospital in New York City in 1942. -wikipedia
Though a young detective, I am not entirely an inexperienced one, and I have several fairly successful investigations to my credit on the records of the Central Office. The Chief said to me one day: "Burroughs, if there's a mystery to be unravelled; I'd rather put it in your hands than to trust it to any other man on the force. "Because," he went on, "you go about it scientifically, and you never jump at conclusions, or accept them, until they're indubitably warranted." I declared myself duly grateful for the Chief's kind words, but I was secretly a bit chagrined. A detective's ambition is to be, considered capable of jumping at conclusions, only the conclusions must always prove to be correct ones. But though I am an earnest and painstaking worker, though my habits are methodical and systematic, and though I am indefatigably patient and persevering, I can never make those brilliant deductions from seemingly unimportant clues that Fleming Stone can. He holds that it is nothing but observation and logical inference, but to me it is little short of clairvoyance. The smallest detail in the way of evidence immediately connotes in his mind some important fact that is indisputable, but which would never have occurred to me. I suppose this is largely a natural bent of his brain, for I have not yet been able to achieve it, either by study or experience.
"Well, go to church then, and I hope to goodness you'll come back in a more spiritual frame of mind! Though how you can feel spiritual in that flibbertigibbet dress is more than I know! An actress, indeed! No mummers' masks have ever blotted the scutcheon of my family tree. The Clydes were decent, God-fearing people, and I don't propose, Miss, that you shall disgrace the name." Ursula Pell shook her good-looking gray head and glowered at her pretty niece, who was getting into a comfortable though not elaborate motor car. "I know you didn't propose it, Aunt Ursula," returned the smiling girl, "I thought up the scheme myself, and I decline to let you have credit of its origin." "Discredit, you mean," and Mrs. Pell sniffed haughtily. "Here's some money for the contribution plate. Iris; see that you put it in, and don't appropriate it yourself."
Even when Peter Crane was a baby boy, with eyes the color of the chicory flowers that grow by the wayside along New England roads, and hair that rivaled the Blessed Damosel's in being "yellow like ripe corn," he was of an adventurous disposition. His innocent face was never so devoid of guile, his winning smile never so cherubic as when he remarked that he would "jes' run froo the front gate a minyit," and the next instant he was out of sight. Far afield his roving spirit led him, and much scurrying was needed on the part of nurse or mother to bring him back. At four he achieved a pair of most wonderful russet-topped boots, -aye, even with straps to lift himself over a fence, if a fence came his way. And these so accentuated and emphasized his world-faring inclinations that he came to be known as Peter Boots. The name stuck, for Peter was always ready to boot it, and all through his school and college days he led his willing mates wherever he listed. He stalked forth and they followed; and, as he stopped not for brake and stayed not for stone, the boys who eagerly trailed Peter Boots became sturdy fellows.
"Marjorie Maynard's May Came on a beautiful day; And Marjorie's Maytime Is Marjorie's playtime; And that's what I sing and I say! Hooray! Yes, that's what I sing and I say!" Marjorie was coming downstairs in her own sweet way, which was accomplished by putting her two feet close together, and jumping two steps at a time. It didn't expedite her descent at all, but it was delightfully noisy, and therefore agreeable from Marjorie's point of view. The May-day was undeniably beautiful. It was warm enough to have doors and windows flung open, and the whole house was full of May that had swarmed in from out of doors.
"Kitty-Cat Kitty is going away, Going to Grandma's, all summer to stay. And so all the Maynards will weep and will bawl, Till Kitty-Cat Kitty comes home in the fall." This affecting ditty was being sung with great gusto by King and Marjorie, while Kitty, her mood divided between smiles and tears, was quietly appreciative. The very next day, Kitty was to start for Morristown, to spend the summer with Grandma Sherwood, and to-night the "Farewell Feast" was to be celebrated. Every year one of the Maynard children spent the summer months with their grandmother, and this year it was Kitty's turn. The visit was always a pleasant one, and greatly enjoyed by the small visitor, but there was always a wrench at parting, for the Maynard family were affectionate and deeply devoted to one another.
Carolyn Wells (June 18, 1862 - March 26, 1942) was an American author and poet. Born in Rahway, New Jersey, she was the daughter of William E. and Anna Wells. She died at the Flower-Fifth Avenue Hospital in New York City in 1942. -wikipedia
A morning full of happiness any boy may find By sailing boats upon the lake, if he is so inclined; The wind it drives them out to sea, he pulls them back, and then They jerk and struggle to be free-away they go again! They wibble-wobble as they sail, and sometimes they upset, - Of course he reaches out for them, -of course he gets quite we
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