Bill Bolton and the Winged Cartwheels

“You and I, Bill,” said Osceola, “are on top of the world and throwing rocks at rainbows!” The young Seminole chief, stooping quickly, picked something out of the short grass at...

Bill levelled off with an abruptness that jarred the very vitals of the plane. Then he allowed the tail to drop slightly, the wheels made contact and the monoplane rolled forwar...

Osceola uttered not a word, but he was first through the open door and took the porch steps at a single leap, Bill at his heels. They sprinted down the turf along the driveway,...

Bill nodded. “Good idea! Socks and shoes will make a particular hit with me. If the soles of my feet aren’t cut to ribbons, they certainly feel as if they were!”

“You’d better go over and dress now,” he said dispiritedly. “I’ve phoned the New Canaan police station and the Chief will be along in a few minutes. Meantime, I’ll locate the pl...

Bill’s car sped into the sleeping town of Danbury. It splashed through the rain along streets where the lights ran together in golden pools. The swish of the water flying gutter...

Osceola nodded. “A window was open in one of the bedrooms. I went in and went through all four rooms and the cellar. What’s more, when they left, they took their clothes and pap...

The woman at the breakfast table was the first in the room to see Bill and Osceola spring through the open window. She screamed, the four men jumped to their feet, sending chair...

He leapt through the open window onto the slates a few feet below. Almost immediately, Osceola lifted Deborah’s limp body over the sill, where Bill caught her in his arms and hu...

The long shadows of late afternoon cut intricate figures on the Bolton’s lawn. Bill, from his chair on the porch, let the book he had been reading slip to the floor. He watched...

“Come in, come in,” he said genially, shaking hands with Davis and nodding to the lads. “Deborah, I’m glad to say, is much better. She is just finished with her supper. We can g...

“Is quite good enough for us, or for anyone who really knows Miss Lightfoot’s admirable character,” broke in the secret service man. He shrewdly guessed the impatience that rage...

Bill awoke, yawned, then sat up in bed. Broad daylight was streaming into the room through the screened windows and a glance at his watch showed the time to be nine o’clock. The...

Shortly before nine o’clock that evening, Ashton Sanborn, or Mr. Davis, as he preferred to be known, waved a hand to Bill and Osceola and drove off along the highway. A minute o...

“And that’s that,” said Bill, still keeping his voice to a whisper. “Disgusting old beast! Let’s turn off the lights in here and try the window. Anything is better than lying he...

“That got the dear gentlemen!” There came a rasping chuckle from below. “Yes, that sent them to their happy hunting ground. Too bad the Indian wasn’t with them, but he will serv...

Again that horrid shriek. This time there was no mistake from whence it came. Half breathless from their sprint, Bill and the detective reached the lodge and looked about for a...

Shortly after daybreak that morning, Bill Bolton spiralled his small two-seater down to a crosswind landing on a field back of Pawling, New York. The monoplane bumped onward ove...