Mystery WingsMystery Wings

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In the center of the “big top,” which sheltered the mammoth three-ring circus, brass horns blared to the rhythmic beat of a huge bass drum. Eight trained elephants, giant actors of the sawdust ring, patiently stood in line, awaiting the command to make way for the tumblers, trapeze performers, bareback riders and the queen of the circus.

An Original Story Featuring the actress Jane Withers, Famous Motion Picture Star, as the Heroine == from a series published by Whitman Publishing, each title featuring a different film star.

Flaming Island: “Look, Dave. See those strange clouds?” Florence Huyler shaded her eyes to look away toward the horizon. Her face wore an expression of bewildered curiosity. “Yes, I see them. They are queer!” young “Captain Davie,” as everyone called him, replied as he wrinkled his brow. After giving the wheel of his motor-driven craft a turn, he studied those clouds. “Scurrying along the horizon,” he murmured, “they roll quite a bit, don’t they?” “Yes, and such a peculiar shade of yellow,” Florence added. “Oh well, clouds are different up here on Lake Superior.” “Nothing to worry about, I guess,” said Dave, as once again he gave his attention to the wheel. As for Florence, at the moment she had nothing to do but think. And such bitter-sweet thoughts as they were! She was cruising on Lake Superior. That was grand! She had always loved the water. What was still more magnificent, she was landing twice a week on the shores of that place of great enchantment—Isle Royale. Once, you will recall from reading The Phantom Violin, Florence with two companions had made her summer home on a huge wrecked ship off the rocky shores of this very island. What a summer that had been! Adventure? Plenty of it. The ship had at last been completely destroyed during a storm. They had barely escaped with their lives. The girl shuddered a little even now at the thought of it. Florence was large, strong, fearless. A marvelous swimmer and a grand athlete, she had little to fear on land or water. And yet, as her eyes swept the deck of the Wanderer, the sixty-foot motor-boat on which she rode, a troubled look came into her fine blue eyes. Nor were those low, circling clouds the cause of her worry. She and her cousin Dave, quite as courageous and venturesome as she, had embarked upon an enterprise that promised to be a failure. “Grandfather will lose his money. He can’t afford to lose, and it’s not all our fault,” she told herself a little bitterly. But now her thoughts were broken by a short, stout, bronze-faced man, an Indian who appeared at the cabin door. “Look, John!” she pointed, speaking to the Indian. “Look at those strange clouds!” “Huh!” he grunted. “Smoke!” “Sm-smoke!” the girl stared. Then she breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, from Canada! Forest fires. I’ve heard—”

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

Tom Pratt firmly believed he was the most unfortunate boy in Maine when, on a certain June morning, his father sent him to the beach for a load of seaweed. Tom had never been in love with a farmer\'s life.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many classics that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

TITLE: THE SECRET MARK By ROY J. SNELL 1923 CHILDREN AUTHOR: ROY J. SNELL PUBLISHER - (LOCATION) / COPYRIGHT: THE REILLY & LEE CO., CHICAGO EDITION: First Edition assumed with none stated CATEGORY: Mystery, Children BINDING/COVER: Hardback with dust jacket COLOR: Off Blue

There was once a story-book girl named Betty Leicester, who lived in a small square book bound in scarlet and white. I, who know her better than any one else does, and who know my way about Tideshead, the story-book town, as well as she did, and who have not only made many a visit to her Aunt Barbara and Aunt Mary in their charming old country-house, but have even seen the house in London where she spent the winter: I, who confess to loving Betty a good deal, wish to write a little more about her in this Christmas story. The truth is, that ever since I wrote the first story I have been seeing girls who reminded me of Betty Leicester of Tideshead. Either they were about the same age or the same height, or they skipped gayly by me in a little gown like hers, or I saw a pleased look or a puzzled look in their eyes which seemed to bring Betty, my own story-book girl, right before me.

Roy J. Snell (1878-1959) authored at least 85 Young Adult novels under his own name and as by David O\'Hara, James Craig, and Joseph Marino, most of them specifically directed to boys, though he wrote at least one series of mysteries for girls. His tales for younger children, beginning with Little White Fox and his Arctic Friends (1916), are animal Fantasies.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic, timeless works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

It was that mystic hour when witches are abroad in the land: one o’clock in the morning. The vast auditorium of the Civic Opera House was a well of darkness and silence. Had you looked in upon this scene at this eerie hour you would most certainly have said, “There is no one here. This grandest of all auditoriums is deserted.” But you would have been mistaken.