T M Publishing: 69 books

The hour for breakfast at the home of Mr. Harrison Townsend, in Worthington Square, was supposed to be eight o'clock. In point of fact, however, breakfast was usually served from that hour on, until the last laggard had appeared. The head of the house himself was always promptly on hand at...

“No,” persisted Pollard, “an impelling—a compelling motive. Why, there’s Gleason now. I can’t bear that man. Yet I scarcely know him. I’ve met him but a few times—had little or no personal conversation with him—yet I dislike him. Not detest or hate or despise—merely dislike him....

The detective, as he left the reading room, passed Rupert, who was just entering. "Let me see," he said, tapping Rupert on the shoulder, "you are the bell-boy who came near being murdered by a crank?" "Yes, sir." "You escaped very cleverly. You...

pink for me, please; I want that beautiful shimmering green, made up over shining white silk. It will make my glossy brown eyes and hair look like a ripe chestnut among its green leaves." "Oh, Bab, such a glistening sentence! 'Shimmering green,' 'shining white,' 'glossy hair'—you...

“Oh, Dorothy, I am sure we will all be killed!” “Doro, are you all right?” This last was from Tavia, while the other gasps came from various girls, too intermixed to separate. It seemed a long time, but was, in reality, only a few seconds, until the conductor and porter...

With the money won at the great motorcycle race the three boys purchase their touring car and commence their travels. * * * * * Lying on a pile of rags in one corner of the bare room, in the glare of a candle, was an old man, with matted and unkempt hair and beard. His face showed pain...

But they did think of him all the time at the house by the medlar—now it would be a plate too many which La Longa found in her hand when she was getting supper ready; now some knot or other that nobody could tie like ’Ntoni in the rigging—and when some rope had to be pulled taut, or turn some...

"Maguez! Maguez!" The trainmen began hoarsely shouting the curious-sounding name of the small frontier town near the Mexican border, in the southwest part of New Mexico. Slowly the long dust-covered Southern Pacific express rolled imposingly into "Mag-gay," very slowly,...

"A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK" relates the adventures of a wide-awake American lad of a mechanical turn of mind, who suddenly finds himself thrown upon his own resources and compelled to support not only himself, but likewise his sister. Jack Willington's path is no easy one to tread....

"Can you make out any sign of the mesa yet, Pete?" The speaker, a sun-bronzed lad of about seventeen, mounted on a bright bay pony with a white-starred forehead, drew rein as he spoke. Shoving back his sombrero, he shielded his eyes from the shimmering desert glare with one hand...

"Who is this Mornay?” Captain Cornbury paused to kindle his tobago. “Mornay is of the Embassy of France, at any game of chance the luckiest blade in the world and a Damon for success with the petticoats, whether they’re doxies or duchesses.” “Soho! a pretty fellow.”...

Here followed the account of the Vicarage, and of the church, but Mrs. Grant knew there was more to come later about Mrs. Brent, and hurried on till she got to it. Dinner in the great hall was described, with allusions to the perfection of the service and the livery of the servants. The conversation...

This novel by the author of "The Prisoner of Zenda" and "Dolly Dialogues" is much more closely related to reality in life and character than most other books.  Everything is ready for the fashionable London wedding of the heroine and the son of a famous old diplomat....

The furniture in this room is no worse than inharmonious, however, for we had to bring it all from downstairs. I suppose when this was used as a playroom they had to take the nursery things out, and no wonder! I never saw such ravages as the children have made here. The wall-paper, as I said...