HEADQUARTERS
“A woman!” she heard a man’s voice say at her ear. She was lying upon
the ground, and strange faces were bending over her. “Well, I’m damned!”
English!
“And the other?” she heard again. “Dead as a ’errin’!”
Doris sat up, staring at them wildly.
“Wait! There’s a flutter ’ere yet.” She heard the other man say. “Come,
Bill. Let’s have ’im over to the ’ouse.”
Doris managed to find a whisper. “A surgeon--for _him_,” she said to
the man supporting her. “He will not die. He is only wounded.”
It was her obsession. It would not leave her.
She saw them carrying Cyril toward the house, and when they wanted to
take her, too, she said that she would walk. Though deathly weak, she
managed to reach the house where they had carried Cyril. They gave her
a drink of something and she revived.
It was a Red Cross station, they told her, and the doctor would be here
in a moment. But in the meanwhile first aid was administered, and at
her place at his bedside she saw Cyril struggling faintly back to life.
“He will not die,” she repeated quietly when the surgeon had examined
him gravely.
“I hope not--but he’s bled a good deal. We’ll see.”
They cut away his coat and wanted to send her away, but she pleaded
to remain and in a moment she heard Cyril’s voice whispering
hoarsely--“Papers--coat pocket--Sir John French.”
“All right,” said the surgeon cheerfully. “We’ll see to that.”
“Doris.”
“Here, Cyril.”
“Rippin’ fine--of you--no mistake--old girl----”
His whisper trailed off into silence and at the surgeon’s orders they
led her away from his cot, but she would not leave the room until she
got the papers out of the pocket of his jacket. An orderly led her to
a young officer with his arm in a sling who sat at a table in another
part of the building. He listened to her story attentively and read the
documents carefully, his lips as he read emitting a thin whistle. He
glanced at his watch and for a moment left the room.
“It is arranged. You shall go,” he said when he came back. “A machine
will be here in a moment.” He paused, examining her doubtfully. She was
spattered with grease and oil, but the pallor of her face beneath its
grime showed that her strength was near its end. “Wouldn’t you trust
those dispatches to me? It’s ten miles to headquarters and rough.”
“No--no, I will go. I promised.”
But he ordered some hot coffee and bread, and thus fortified, when the
motor came around she was driven upon her way. The young officer sat
beside her, eagerly listening, while she gave him a brief outline of
their adventures.
“Amazin’!” he said from time to time. “Most amazin’!”
And then as she went on, he said quietly:
“You’re goin’ on your nerve, I think. Better save your strength until
we get to headquarters. It isn’t far now.”
She tried to keep silent, but it seemed as though she must go on
talking. That seemed to give her strength to complete her task, for
when she sank back in her seat and tried to relax she only grew weak
thinking of Cyril lying back there, hovering between life and death.
And then she heard herself saying aloud, “He will not die. He has gone
through too much to die now.”
The man beside her glanced down at her and smiled gently.
“No, he isn’t going to die. Bullets don’t kill nowadays--unless they
kill at once.”
“Yes--yes,” she assented. “That’s it. If he had been going to die, he
would have been dead now, wouldn’t he?”
She laid her hand eagerly on the young officer’s arm and he put his
hand over hers.
“Palmerston is the best surgeon along this part of the line. He’ll pull
him through. Don’t you worry.”
“I won’t--I’ll try not to--you’re awfully kind. Would you mind telling
me your name?”
“Jackson. Second Leinster Dragoons. And yours?”
“Mather--Doris Mather. I--I don’t want to forget your name. You’ve been
very good to understand everything so perfectly.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. There are reasons--I’m on Headquarters Staff, you
know.”
That was one reason. But another one was that there was a girl at
home just as much worried over his wound as Miss Mather was over
Hammersley’s.
They passed from the rough roads between gates into a smoother one
which was bordered with poplars. At the end in front of her she saw
lights and reached a doorway, where an orderly opened the door of
the machine and saluted her companion. Their arrival, it seemed, was
expected. Captain Jackson took her by the arm and led her indoors, for
her courage or her nerves seemed to be failing her again, down a quiet
hall into a room where an officer with a gray mustache sat before a
lighted lamp at a table covered with papers. She recognized him at once
from the many portraits that had appeared in the weekly papers. He
spoke to her and she tried to reply, but she could not. She seemed only
to have strength enough to thrust the papers forward into his hand,
when her knees gave way under her and she sank in a heap upon the floor.
Gentle hands lifted her and laid her upon a couch in the corner of the
room. She tried to get up, but could not. She heard the voices of the
officers in the room as from a great distance, and then a woman came
and two men carried her upstairs and put her to bed. She realized that
she was talking incoherently of Cyril, of the Yellow Dove. They gave
her something to drink and her nerves grew mysteriously quiet. She
seemed to be sailing smoothly through the air--higher, higher--Cyril’s
fingers were pointing upward. She was tipping the wheel toward
her--ever toward her, and they rose higher. They had reached the region
of continuous and perfect day. Cyril turned his head and looked at her,
and then he smiled.
* * * * *
It was broad daylight when she awoke, for the sunshine was streaming in
at the window. A woman sat near her, knitting. She was an old woman of
many wrinkles, kindly wrinkles which seemed to vie with one another to
express placidity. As Doris rose in her bed the old woman rose, too,
and came forward briskly, speaking in French.
“Ah, Mademoiselle is awake. _Bon._ She is feeling better?”
“Yes, better--but a little tired.” And then, as she realized where she
was, “Could you tell me----? General French--could I see him?”
“All is well, mademoiselle. Monsieur le General--he is not here now.
But he will be back after a while. He will see you, then, but first
it is proper that you have breakfast and a bath. Mademoiselle needs a
bath--I think.”
Doris glanced at her hand, which lay upon the white coverlid. It was
black. “Yes, I will bathe. But first will you tell me----?”
The old woman smiled as she interrupted, “I was to tell you that
Monsieur yonder is better. That is what Mademoiselle wished to know, is
it not?”
Doris sank back upon her pillow in a silence which gave the full
measure of her joy. Cyril would recover. She had been sure of it. She
had told them last night. God was good.
The news gave her strength, and the coffee and eggs that were brought
revived her rapidly. Her nerves still trembled in memory of what they
had passed through, but when she was bathed and dressed in clean linen
garments, much too large for her, a surgeon brought her medicine, and
what was better than medicine, news that Cyril was conscious and was
asking for her.
But they would not let her go to him. Tomorrow perhaps. Meanwhile the
doctor would be glad to take a message. Doris colored gently. The
message that she would have liked to send was not to be transmitted by
this means.
“Tell him,” she said at last quietly, “that I am well--and that I will
see him when I have permission to do so.”
The officer smiled, gave some directions to the old woman and went out.
It was not until late in the afternoon, when dressed in her own
garments, which had been carefully cleansed and brushed by her nurse,
that she was admitted to the office of the Field Marshal. She was shown
into his room and he greeted her with unmistakable cordiality, offering
her the chair next his own and congratulating her warmly upon the
success of her achievement and Cyril’s.
“You know,” he asked quietly, “the contents of these documents?”
“Yes. Their importance made it necessary that I should.”
“Then of course you realize the necessity for the utmost secrecy?”
“I do.”
The General smiled at her and brought forward a copy of a recent issue
of the London _Times_.
“Did you know that for the past three days England has actually stopped
criticizing me to talk about you?”
“About _me_?” she asked.
“Yes, read,” he said smiling, and she took the paper from him, skimming
the headings of a news item he pointed out to her:
MISS MATHER STILL MISSING.
MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE STILL UNACCOUNTED
FOR.
LADY HEATHCOTE TELLS STRANGE STORY.
JOHN RIZZIO, THE FAMOUS COLLECTOR, A GERMAN
SPY.
And then in the news item below:
Allison Mather, of Ashwater Park, believing that his daughter
is still alive, today offered a reward of five thousand pounds
to anyone----
She stopped reading and put the paper down.
“Poor Daddy!” she whispered. “O Sir John, will you let him know----?”
“I have already done so, child. He knows that you are safe.” And then
with a laugh, “The five thousand pounds--I think are mine. I need a new
hospital corps.”
“Oh, he’ll give it, I’m sure.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
He took her hand and rose in the act of dismissal. “We have supper at
six. I hope you will be able to join us.”
“But, General----” She paused at the door.
He smiled at her softly.
“If all goes well--you shall see him tomorrow.”
She colored prettily. Everyone seemed to know, but she didn’t care. The
world, in spite of its terrors, was a garden of roses to Doris.
* * * * *
She did not see Cyril the next day or the one following. His
temperature had risen, and while the danger of a relapse was not
acute, they thought it safer that she be kept away. She had worried,
fearing the worst, but the frankness of the head surgeon reassured her.
The bullet had drilled through him, just scraping the lung. He would
recover. But why take a chance of complication when all was going well?
There was no reply to that, so Doris waited at headquarters, thankful
and trying to be patient, sending two penciled scrawls which were
delivered to the wounded man.
It was not until three days later that she received word that she would
be permitted to see him. His cot had been carried into a small room
at the front of the building, and she entered it timidly, the nurse,
with a smile and a glance at her watch, both of which were eloquent,
withdrawing. He was propped up on pillows, and though pale from the
loss of blood, greeted her with his old careless smile. She sank into
the chair by the side of the bed and caught his hand to her lips.
“O Cyril,” she murmured. “Cyril, I’m so glad. But I knew you wouldn’t
die--you couldn’t after getting safely through everything else.”
“Die! Well, hardly. I’m right as rain. Jolly close shootin’ that of
Rizzio’s, though. Pity he had to go--that way.”
She hid her face in her hands.
“Don’t! Let’s forget him.” And then, “Have you suffered much?”
“No. The bally thing burns a bit now and then--but the worst of it is,
they won’t let a chap smoke.”
She laughed and he caught her hand closer.
“How did you do it, Doris? How did you?” he questioned.
“I had to, Cyril,” she said. “It wasn’t anything--except knowing where
to come down. That bothered me. I guessed at Ypres. The rest was luck.”
“More than luck, old girl. Just courage and intelligence. I felt myself
failin’, up there, but I saw you knew your way about and then I--I
seemed to go to sleep. Silly of me, wasn’t it?”
“Silly! You fainted, Cyril.”
“Rotten time to faint.”
“You might have died up there. Once I thought you had died. Oh, that
dreadful moment! I wanted to go, too--with you. I was a little mad, I
think. I wanted to take you in my arms and go with you--down--down. My
hands even left the wheel. The Yellow Dove toppled--but I caught her.”
“Poor child!”
“After that I seemed to grow all cold with reason and skill. I
forgot you. I looked beyond, over your poor head. I had to succeed,
Cyril--that was all.”
His hand pressed hers tenderly.
“You’re the only girl in the world who could do it. I’m glad--proud----”
He broke off. “My word, Doris! There’s no use tryin’ to tell you what I
think of you. I’m no good at that sort of thing.”
“I understand. You’re just--yourself. That’s enough for me.”
“You were a trump up there in the Thorwald--to stay with poor old Udo,
but I had to go. It was the only way. I never thought we’d make it.”
“But we did.”
“_You_ did. It was the Dove, Doris--the good old Dove. Isn’t she a
ripper?”
“I never had a fear--once she rose. How did you happen----”
He laughed.
“It was to be a surprise. I’d been workin’ on her for a year--tryin’
her out on the moors. Nobody knew--until the war came--and then I told
Udo, who told von Stromberg. I tried a flight to Windenberg and made
it comfortably. Awf’ly easy thing. I stayed at Windenberg in October,
flyin’ over the English lines, droppin’ bombs.”
“That was where you were----!”
“But I never hit anythin’. Wouldn’t do, you know. Then when I came back
I told the War Office. They sent me for the papers. You know the rest.”
“O Cyril, I’m so glad it’s all over. You’ll go to England now and rest.”
“For a while.” And then, “Will you marry me, Doris? Soon?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Whenever you want me.”
“Here? Now?”
“But, Cyril----”
“There’s a parson chap about here somewhere. I saw him browsin’ in here
the other day.”
“Isn’t it a little----”
“Say you will, there’s a dear.”
“Yes, if you wish it. But----”
“What?”
“Clothes.”
“Nonsense. You’re jolly handsome in those togs--handsome no end,” he
repeated. “Marry me tomorrow, Doris. There’s a dear.”
She leaned her face down upon his hand.
“We’re already married, Cyril. Up there I felt it. Even death couldn’t
have separated us.”
“Thank God! Kiss me, Doris.” She obeyed.
“I’ll see Jackson,” he whispered. “He’ll manage it. Resourceful chap,
Jackson. He’ll get us a chaplain like pullin’ a rabbit out of a hat.”
She laughed.
“I don’t suppose I’d ever have known you, Cyril, over there in England.
You always did wonderful things carelessly, Cyril.”
“But not this wonderful thing----” and he kissed her.
“It is a wonderful thing,” she whispered. “So wonderful that I wonder
if it can be true.”
“I’ll prove it to you----”
But she had straightened and kissed his hand.
“No more now--I mustn’t stay. I hear them in the hall.”
“Tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Jackson?”
“Yes.”
The nurse knocked discreetly and entered. “Five minutes. I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” said Hammersley, with a sigh.
* * * * *
Three weeks later they stood side by side at the rail of the Channel
boat on the way to Ashwater Park for the parental blessing. The shores
of France were already purple in the distance. They had looked upon
Death with eyes that did not fear, but the sight of it together had
made the bond of their fealty and tenderness the stronger. There was a
sadness in his look and she knew instinctively of what he was thinking.
“Germany, Cyril,” she said aloud. “I love it because a part of it is
you. But I love England more, because it _is_ you.”
Hammersley watched the receding shores beyond the vessel’s wake, her
hand in his.
“They’re followin’ false gods, Doris. Gods of steel and brass----!”
“They _must_ fall, Cyril.”
“They will.” And then, “But you can’t help admirin’ the beggars! Poor
old Udo!”
“I think about him, Cyril. Do you think he got away?”
“Well, rather! I cut his bonds with a huntin’ knife before we went
down.”
She looked up into his face in amazement. “You dared do that?” He
laughed.
“You wouldn’t have let him be more generous than me.”
“And he let us go?”
“He didn’t think we _could_ go. He left things to Destiny.”
“Good old Udo!” she repeated. And then dreamily, “Destiny! You were not
meant to die, Cyril.”
“Not yet.” He said slowly: “But I must go back--over there, Doris.”
She shivered a little and drew closer to him.
“Yes, I know,” she said. “But you’ve earned----”
“I couldn’t ever earn what I’ve got,” he broke in quickly.
“Nor I----”
“I’m not much of a chap at pretty speeches and all that sort of thing,
but you’re a rare one, you know, the rummiest sort of a rare one--the
kind a chap dreams about but never gets--and yet I’ve got you-- Oh,
hang it all, Doris,” he broke off helplessly. “You know----”
She smiled at him and slipped her arm through his.
“Yes, I know,” she said.
“Good old Doris,” he muttered. “Silly ass, aren’t I?”
But she wouldn’t admit that.
FOUR TIMELY BOOKS OF
INTERNATIONAL IMPORTANCE
I ACCUSE (_J’ACCUSE!_) By a German. A Scathing Arraignment of the
German War Policy.
At this vital time in the nation’s history every patriotic American
should read and reread this wonderful book and learn the absurdity of
the German excuse that they wanted a “Place in the Sun.”
Learn how the German masses were deluded with the idea that they were
making a defensive war to protect the Fatherland.
Let the author of this illuminating book again show the sacrilege of
claiming a Christian God as a Teutonic ally and riddle once more the
divine right of kings.
PAN-GERMANISM. By Roland G. Usher.
The clear, graphic style gives it a popular appeal that sets it miles
apart from the ordinary treatise, and for the reader who wishes to
get a rapid focus on the world events of the present, perhaps no book
written will be more interesting.
It is the only existing forecast of exactly the present development of
events in Europe. It is, besides, a brisk, clear, almost primer-like
reduction of the complex history of Europe during the last forty years
to a simple, connected story clear enough to the most casual reader.
THE CHALLENGE OF THE FUTURE. By Roland G. Usher.
A glance into America’s future by the man who, in his book PAN-GERMANISM,
foretold with such amazing accuracy the coming of the present European
events. An exceedingly live and timely book that is bound to be read and
discussed widely because it strikes to the heart of American problems,
and more especially because it hits right and left at ideas that have
become deep-seated convictions in many American minds.
THE EVIDENCE IN THE CASE. By James M. Beck, LL.D., Formerly Assistant
Attorney-General of the United States, Author of the “War and
Humanity.” With an Introduction by the Hon. Joseph H. Choate, Late U.
S. Ambassador to Great Britain.
No work on the War has made a deeper impression throughout the world
than “The Evidence in the Case,” a calm, dispassionate, but forceful
discussion of the moral responsibility for the present war as disclosed
by the diplomatic papers. Arnold Bennett says that it “is certainly by
far _the most convincing indictment of Germany_ in existence.”
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
JACK LONDON’S NOVELS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
JOHN BARLEYCORN.
Illustrated by H. T. Dunn.
This remarkable book is a record of the author’s own amazing
experiences. This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquainted
with alcohol from boyhood, comes out boldly against John Barleycorn.
It is a string of exciting adventures, yet it forcefully conveys an
unforgetable idea and makes a typical Jack London book.
THE VALLEY OF THE MOON.
Frontispiece by George Harper.
The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster and
ex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and love and
marry. They tramp from one end of California to the other, and in the
Valley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is to be their salvation.
BURNING DAYLIGHT.
Four illustrations.
The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the foundations
of his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing his fortunes
to the States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money kings, and
recovers it only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts out as a
merciless exploiter on his own account. Finally he takes to drinking
and becomes a picture of degeneration. About this time he falls in love
with his stenographer and wins her heart but not her hand and then--but
read the story!
A SON OF THE SUN.
Illustrated by A. O. Fischer and C. W. Ashley.
David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came from
England to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned like a native
and as lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. The life
appealed to him and he remained and became very wealthy.
THE CALL OF THE WILD.
Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin and Charles Livingston Bull.
Decorations by Charles E. Hooper.
A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man’s exploits could be.
Here is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque color to
transport the reader to primitive scenes.
THE SEA WOLF.
Illustrated by W. J. Aylward.
Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious life into
the power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A novel of
adventure warmed by a beautiful love episode that every reader will
hail with delight.
WHITE FANG.
Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull.
“White Fang” is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the frozen
north; he gradually comes under the spell of man’s companionship, and
surrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. Thereafter he is
man’s loving slave.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY
WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE
HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED.
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.
MAVERICKS.
A tale of the western frontier, where the “rustler,” whose depredations
are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One
of the sweetest love stories ever told.
A TEXAS RANGER.
How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law
into the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of
thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed
through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.
WYOMING.
In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the
breezy charm of “cattleland,” and brings out the turbid life of the
frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.
RIDGWAY OF MONTANA.
The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics
and mining industries are the religion of the country. The political
contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story
great strength and charm.
BUCKY O’CONNOR.
Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with
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fascination of style and plot.
CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT.
A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a
bitter feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a
most unusual woman and her love story reaches a culmination that is
fittingly characteristic of the great free West.
BRAND BLOTTERS.
A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of
the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming
love interest running through its 320 pages.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
ZANE GREY’S NOVELS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS
Colored frontispiece by W. Herbert Dunton.
Most of the action of this story takes place near the turbulent Mexican
border of the present day. A New York society girl buys a ranch which
becomes the center of frontier warfare. Her loyal cowboys defend her
property from bandits, and her superintendent rescues her when she is
captured by them. A surprising climax brings the story to a delightful
close.
DESERT GOLD
Illustrated by Douglas Duer.
Another fascinating story of the Mexican border. Two men, lost in
the desert, discover gold when, overcome by weakness, they can go no
farther. The rest of the story describes the recent uprising along the
border, and ends with the finding of the gold which the two prospectors
had willed to the girl who is the story’s heroine.
RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE
Illustrated by Douglas Duer.
A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon
authority ruled. In the persecution of Jane Withersteen, a rich ranch
owner, we are permitted to see the methods employed by the invisible
hand of the Mormon Church to break her will.
THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN
Illustrated with photograph reproductions.
This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones,
known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert
and of a hunt in “that wonderful country of yellow crags, deep cañons
and giant pines.” It is a fascinating story.
THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT
Jacket in color. Frontispiece.
This big human drama is played in the Painted Desert. A lovely
girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young New
Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall
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Well, that’s the problem of this sensational, big selling story.
BETTY ZANE
Illustrated by Louis F. Grant.
This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful
young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. Life
along the frontier, attacks by Indians, Betty’s heroic defense of the
beleaguered garrison at Wheeling, the burning of the Fort, and Betty’s
final race for life, make up this never-to-be-forgotten story.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY
GENE STRATTON-PORTER
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.
[Illustration]
LADDIE.
Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.
This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The
story is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family,
but it is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love
affairs of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of
Laddie, the older brother whom Little Sister adores, and the Princess,
an English girl who has come to live in the neighborhood and about
whose family there hangs a mystery. There is a wedding midway in the
book and a double wedding at the close.
THE HARVESTER.
Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs.
“The Harvester,” David Langston, is a man of the woods and fields, who
draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother Nature herself. If
the book had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would
be notable. But when the Girl comes to his “Medicine Woods,” and the
Harvester’s whole being realizes that this is the highest point of life
which has come to him--there begins a romance of the rarest idyllic
quality.
FRECKLES.
Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford.
Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which
he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great
Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs
to the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with “The
Angel” are full of real sentiment.
A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST.
Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda.
The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable type of
the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness
towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty
of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and
unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.
AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW.
Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp.
The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The
story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love.
The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and
its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK
JOHN FOX, JR’S.
STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.
THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
[Illustration]
The “lonesome pine” from which the story takes its name was a tall tree
that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine
lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when
he finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the
_foot-prints of a girl_. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and
the trail of these girlish foot-prints led the young engineer a madder
chase than “the trail of the lonesome pine.”
THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as “Kingdom Come.”
It is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which
often springs the flower of civilization.
“Chad.” the “little shepherd” did not know who he was nor whence he
came--he had just wandered from door to door since early childhood,
seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and
mothered this waif about whom there was such a mystery--a charming
waif, by the way, who could play the banjo better that anyone else in
the mountains.
A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, the lair of
moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner’s son, and the
heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened “The Blight.” Two
impetuous young Southerners fall under the spell of “The Blight’s”
charms and she learns what a large part jealousy and pistols have in
the love making of the mountaineers.
Included in this volume is “Hell fer-Sartain” and other stories, some
of Mr. Fox’s most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives.
_Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction._
GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST., NEW YORK
CHARMING BOOKS FOR GIRLS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE, By Jean Webster.
Illustrated by C. D. Williams.
One of the best stories of life in a girl’s college that has ever been
written. It is bright, whimsical and entertaining, lifelike, laughable
and thoroughly human.
JUST PATTY, By Jean Webster.
Illustrated by C. M. Relyea.
Patty is full of the joy of living, fun-loving, given to ingenious
mischief for its own sake, with a disregard for pretty convention which
is an unfailing source of joy to her fellows.
THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL, By Eleanor Gates.
With four full page illustrations.
This story relates the experience of one of those unfortunate children
whose early days are passed in the companionship of a governess, seldom
seeing either parent, and famishing for natural love and tenderness. A
charming play as dramatized by the author.
REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM, By Kate Douglas Wiggin.
One of the most beautiful studies of childhood--Rebecca’s artistic,
unusual and quaintly charming qualities stand out midst a circle of
austere New Englanders. The stage version is making a phenomenal
dramatic record.
NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA, By Kate Douglas Wiggin.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
Additional episodes in the girlhood of this delightful heroine that
carry Rebecca through various stages to her eighteenth birthday.
REBECCA MARY, By Annie Hamilton Donnell.
Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green.
This author possesses the rare gift of portraying all the grotesque
little joys and sorrows and scruples of this very small girl with a
pathos that is peculiarly genuine and appealing.
EMMY LOU: Her Book and Heart, By George Madden Martin.
Illustrated by Charles Louis Hinton.
Emmy Lou is irresistibly lovable, because she is so absolutely real.
She is just a bewitchingly innocent, huggable little maid. The book is
wonderfully human.
_Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction._
GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST., NEW YORK
MYRTLE REED’S NOVELS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list
[Illustration]
LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.
A charming story of a quaint corner of New England where bygone romance
finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love
to the young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one of the
prettiest, sweetest and quaintest of old fashioned love stories, * * * a
rare book, exquisite in spirit and conception, full of delicate fancy,
of tenderness, of delightful humor and spontaneity.
A SPINNER IN THE SUN.
Miss Myrtle Reed may always be depended upon to write a story in
which poetry, charm, tenderness and humor are combined into a clever
and entertaining book. Her characters are delightful and she always
displays a quaint humor of expression and a quiet feeling of pathos
which give a touch of active realism to all her writings. In “A Spinner
in the Sun” she tells an old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who
lives in solitude and whose features her neighbors have never seen.
There is a mystery at the heart of the book that throws over it the
glamour of romance.
THE MASTER’S VIOLIN.
A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German
virtuoso is the reverent possessor of a genuine “Cremona.” He consents
to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an aptitude
for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth has led the
happy, careless life of a modern, well-to-do young American and he
cannot, with his meagre past, express the love, the passion and the
tragedies of life and all its happy phases as can the master who has
lived life in all its fulness. But a girl comes into his life--a
beautiful bit of human driftwood that his aunt had taken into her
heart and home, and through his passionate love for her, he learns the
lessons that life has to give--and his soul awakes.
Founded on a fact that all artists realize.
_Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction._
GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST., NEW YORK
B. M. Bower’s Novels
Thrilling Western Romances
Large 12 mos. Handsomely bound in cloth. Illustrated
CHIP, OF THE FLYING U
A breezy wholesome tale, wherein the love affairs of Chip and Della
Whitman are charmingly and humorously told. Chip’s jealousy of Dr.
Cecil Grantham, who turns out to be a big, blue eyed young woman is
very amusing. A clever, realistic story of the American Cow-puncher.
THE HAPPY FAMILY
A lively and amusing story, dealing with the adventures of eighteen
jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys. Foremost amongst them, we find
Ananias Green, known as Andy, whose imaginative powers cause many
lively and exciting adventures.
HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT
A realistic story of the plains, describing a gay party of Easterners
who exchange a cottage at Newport for the rough homeliness of a Montana
ranch-house. The merry-hearted cowboys, the fascinating Beatrice, and
the effusive Sir Redmond, become living, breathing personalities.
THE RANGE DWELLERS
Here are everyday, genuine cowboys, just as they really exist. Spirited
action, a range feud between two families, and a Romeo and Juliet
courtship make this a bright, jolly, entertaining story, without a dull
page.
THE LURE OF DIM TRAILS
A vivid portrayal of the experience of an Eastern author, among the
cowboys of the West, in search of “local color” for a new novel. “Bud”
Thurston learns many a lesson while following “the lure of the dim
trails” but the hardest, and probably the most welcome, is that of love.
THE LONESOME TRAIL
“Weary” Davidson leaves the ranch for Portland, where conventional
city life palls on him. A little branch of sage brush, pungent with
the atmosphere of the prairie, and the recollection of a pair of large
brown eyes soon compel his return. A wholesome love story.
THE LONG SHADOW
A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the free, outdoor, life of a
mountain ranch. Its scenes shift rapidly and its actors play the game
of life fearlessly and like men. It is a fine love story from start to
finish.
Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK
THE NOVELS OF
STEWART EDWARD WHITE
THE RULES OF THE GAME.
Illustrated by Lajaren A. Hiller.
The romance of the son of “The Riverman.” The young college hero goes
into the lumber camp, is antagonized by “graft” and comes into the
romance of his life.
ARIZONA NIGHTS.
Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyeth.
A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life of the
ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece.
THE BLAZED TRAIL.
With illustrations by Thomas Fogarty.
A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young man who
blazed his way to fortune through the heart of the Michigan pines.
THE CLAIM JUMPERS. A Romance.
The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the Black Hills
has a hard time of it, but “wins out” in more ways than one.
CONJUROR’S HOUSE.
Illustrated Theatrical Edition.
Dramatized under the title of “The Call of the North.”
“Conjuror’s House” is a Hudson Bay trading post where the head factor
is the absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and won a bride on
this forbidden land.
THE MAGIC FOREST. A Modern Fairy Tale.
Illustrated.
The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and their life
is treated could only belong to one who is in love with the forest and
open air. Based on fact.
THE RIVERMAN.
Illus. by N. C. Wyeth and C. Underwood.
The story of a man’s fight against a river and of a struggle between
honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and shrewdness on the
other.
THE SILENT PLACES.
Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin.
The wonders of the northern forests, the heights of feminine devotion
and masculine power, the intelligence of the Caucasian and the instinct
of the Indian, are all finely drawn in this story.
THE WESTERNERS.
A story of the Black Hills that is justly placed among the best
American novels. It portrays the life of the new West as no other book
has done in recent years.
THE MYSTERY.
In collaboration with Samuel Hopkins Adams.
With illustrations by Will Crawford.
The disappearance of three successive crews from the stout ship
“Laughing Lass” in mid-Pacific, is a mystery weird and inscrutable. In
the solution, there is a story of the most exciting voyage that man
ever undertook.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST., NEW YORK
* * * * * *
Transcriber’s note:
--Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to
follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the
illustration may not match the page number in the List of
Illustrations.
--Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
--Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
--Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.
--The author’s em-dash and long dash styles have been retained.