The Earl of Flanborough pressed a bell push by the side of his study table and, after an interval of exactly three seconds, pressed it again, though the footman’s lobby could not have been far short o...

“You might do worse than lunch with me,” said Michael Pretherston. He stood outside Felton House with the girl whose belongings in one small Gladstone bag had been deposited on the curb, pending the a...

Michael Pretherston was back at the Yard in time to catch his chief before he departed for the day. Commissioner T. B. Smith, to whose recommendation this young scion of the aristocracy owed his promo...

“Where did he go?” she asked. “He went to Millet,” said the Colonel, throwing himself down to a divan and biting off the end of a fresh cigar. “I wonder what the dickens he wants?” he mused. Kate West...

Sebo’s Club was crowded, for it was the dinner hour and Sebo’s is the most extensively patronized of the dining clubs. Here, all that was beautiful, all that was smart, all that was famous and brillia...

At 9:40 on the night of the 15th instant I was present at Sebo’s Club. The room was full of diners and amongst them was Mr. Reginald Boltover and a girl giving the name of Miss Vera Flemming, who was ...

Lord Flanborough gave a dinner party. He was a methodical man and invariably made his arrangements a long time in advance, and he was not unnaturally annoyed, when, at the eleventh hour, his daughter ...

No man has ever understood a woman, for the simple reason that woman is unintelligible even to her own kind. If she were not, and if she were susceptible to explanation by her own sisters, be sure tha...

Colonel Westhanger looked at his watch. “She’s twenty minutes late already,” he said. Gregori rolled another cigarette and looked enquiringly at Dr. Philip Garon who was fingering his trim beard and t...

Michael took the card from the uniformed constable and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Sir Ralph Sapson,” he said, “what the dickens does he want?” The constable made no reply, for he was neither th...

There was a greater reason for Sir Ralph’s perturbation than either he knew or Michael guessed. Both might have been enlightened, had they stood on Cannon Street Station one Sunday morning and seen th...

Whatever distress animated the bosoms of humanity on that fateful Sunday afternoon and evening there were two people riotously and supremely happy, though the car which Alphonso Blaxton drove was an o...

It is necessary to tell the story of what was undoubtedly one of the strangest and most audacious crimes recorded in the annals of crime with greater detail and at greater length than is ordinarily ne...

By six o’clock that evening Michael Pretherston was back again at his work, passing down from station to station on a pilot engine, questioning and cross-examining the officials concerned. T. B. Smith...

T. B. Smith walked into his outer office. “Any news of Mr. Pretherston?” he asked. “No, sir,” was the reply. “Any news of Barr?” “No, sir.” T. B. clicked his lips impatiently. “Who’s looking after the...

The main building of what had once been Boltover’s Cement Works consisted of four high walls and a slate roof. Here had stood the wash mills and the revolving knives which had reduced the clay and mud...

It is a fact worth remarking upon, that in all her career, though she had been associated with the most desperate of criminals, and though she had been surrounded on all sides by men who would stop at...

It was ten o’clock the following morning before any of the gang saw the girl. She had spent a sleepless night revising her philosophies and arranging the future as she saw it. Mulberry who had put awa...

The girl rose up from the chair where she had been sitting and crossed to where Michael lay on the floor where they had thrown him. He looked up and smiled. “Why, Kate,” he said faintly, “always⁠ ⁠… m...

See Rex v. Tolmini (Notts. Assizes). This was evidently the big mail robbery which failed, owing to the precipitancy of one of the criminals. —⁠Editor ↩...