Genre - Thriller. You are on the page - 10
"Look sharp, Marco! The quadruple knot!"Before he had even time to stand on the defensive, Rudolf Kesselbach was tied up in a network of cords that cut into his flesh at the least attempt which he made to struggle. His arms were fixed behind his back, his body fastened to the chair and his legs tied together like the legs of a mummy. "Search him, Marco." Marco searched him. Two minutes after, he handed his chief a little flat, nickel-plated key, bearing the numbers 16 and 9.
ulled up at the kerb.The driver leant over the shining apron which partially protected him from the weather, and shouted: "Is Miss Beale there?" The girl started in surprise, taking a step toward the cab. "I am Miss Beale," she said. "Your editor has sent me for you," said the man briskly. The editor of the Megaphone had been guilty of many eccentric acts. He had expressed views on her drawing which she shivered to recall. He had aroused her in the middle of the
age to the door of her private retreat, and was about to knock when he was deterred by the words which he could clearly hear. Chapter III FRANCIS HAMMERTON, if we are to think of him by his true name, had not considered the probability that Mrs. Benson might not be the sole occupant of the house, his mind having been concentrated upon aspects of his position which threatened more definite hazards. Actually, the woman whose voice he heard was a next-door neighbour, Miss Janet Brown, who had
When I shot some of his prize turkeys with it, he did not punish me; he complimented me on my marksmanship. I killed my first bear in the Caucasus when I was ten. My whole life has been one prolonged hunt. I went into the army--it was expected of noblemen's sons--and for a time commanded a division of Cossack cavalry, but my real interest was always the hunt. I have hunted every kind of game in every land. It would be impossible for me to tell you how many animals I have killed." The
this nervous little chap. There was a tray of drinks on a table beside him, from which he filled himself a stiff whisky-and-soda. He drank it off in three gulps, and cracked the glass as he set it down. 'Pardon,' he said, 'I'm a bit rattled tonight. You see, I happen at this moment to be dead.' I sat down in an armchair and lit my pipe. 'What does it feel like?' I asked. I was pretty certain that I had to deal with a madman. A smile flickered over his drawn face. 'I'm not mad - yet. Say, Sir,
the summer with unimpaired cheerfulness, confiding to me that he secured his luncheons free at the soda counter. He came frequently to see me, bringing always a pocketful of chewing gum, which he assured me was excellent to allay the gnawings of hunger, and later, as my condition warranted it, small bags of gum-drops and other pharmacy confections.McWhirter it was who got me my berth on the Ella. It must have been about the 20th of July, for the Ella sailed on the 28th. I was strong enough to