The Bartlett Mystery

A clerk, one of the would-be swains who had met with chilling discouragement after working-hours, was evidently on the lookout for her. An ignoble soul prompted a smirk of trium...

Early next morning a girl attired in a neat but inexpensive costume entered Central Park by the One Hundred and Second Street gate, and walked swiftly by a winding path to the e...

During the brief run up-town Winifred managed to dry her tears, yet the mystery and terror of the circumstances into which she was so suddenly plunged seemed to become more dist...

It is good for the idle rich that they should be brought occasionally into sharp contact with life's realities. During his twenty-seven years Rex Carshaw had hardly ever known w...

Clancy forced Senator Meiklejohn's hand early in the fray. He was at the Senator's flat within an hour of the time Ronald Tower was dragged into the Hudson, but a smooth-spoken...

His muscles were rejuvenated by Polly Barnard's exciting news and no less by admiration for the girl herself. Little thinking that Jim, the plumber, was performing deeds of derr...

When Carshaw came, with lightsome step and heart freed from care--for in some respects he was irresponsible as any sane man could be--to visit his beloved Winifred next day, he...

Carshaw and Fowle enjoyed, let us say, a short but almost triumphal march to the nearest police-station. Their escort of loafers and small boys grew quickly in numbers and enthu...

"I don't like the proposition, an' that's a fact," muttered Fowle, lifting a glass of whisky and glancing furtively at Voles, when the domineering eyes of the superior scoundrel...

Steingall and Clancy were highly amused by Carshaw's account of the "second burning of Fairfield," as the little man described the struggle between Winifred's abductors and her...

"It is highly improper on my part to come here and meet you," said Winifred. "What can it be that you have to say to me of such 'high importance'?"

Steingall, not Clancy, presented his bulk at Carshaw's apartment next morning. He contrived to have a few minutes' private talk with Mrs. Carshaw while her son was dressing. Ear...

It was no part of Detective Clancy's business to pry into the private affairs of Senator Meiklejohn. Senators are awkward fish to handle, being somewhat similar to whales caught...

The next day Winifred set about her new purpose of finding some other occupation than that connected with the stage, though she rose from bed that morning feeling ill, having ha...

The lapse of time, too, had lulled the politician's suspicions of the police. They seemed to have ceased prying. He ascertained, almost by chance, that Clancy was hot on the tra...

"Tell me," said the tortured Meiklejohn; "why have you returned to New York? Above all, why did you straightway commit a crime that cannot fail to stir the whole country?"

The chief disliked melodrama in official affairs. Any man, even a crook, ought to know when he is beaten, and take his punishment with a stiff upper lip. But Voles's face was wh...

That evening of her dismissal from Brown's, and her meeting with Rex Carshaw, Winifred opened the door of the dun house in One Hundred and Twelfth Street the most downhearted gi...

Mrs. Carshaw focused him again through her gold-rimmed eye-glasses. "Crazy?" she questioned calmly. "Not a bit of it--merely an old woman bargaining for her son. Rex would not h...

That story of love and crime which figures in the records of the New York Detective Bureau as "The Yacht Mystery" has little to do with yachts and is no longer a mystery. It is...

The two automobiles rushed along the Boston Post Road, heading for Bridgeport. The loud rivalry of their straining engines awoke many a wayside dweller, and brought down maledic...

Steingall left her standing on the upholstered back of the car, with her hands clutching the top of the gate. She did not descend immediately. In that position she could best he...

"Mr. Steingall will be here to-morrow," said the official in charge. "Mr. Clancy asked me to tell you, if you rang up, that he would be away till Monday next."

Winifred, pale as death, rose to receive her lover, with that letter in her hand which made an appointment with her at a house in East Orange; a letter which she believed to hav...

East Orange seemed to be a long way from New York when Winifred hastened to the appointment at "Gateway House," traveling thither by way of the Tube and the Lackawanna Railway.

A telegram reached Carshaw before he left Burlington with Clancy. He hoped it contained news of Winifred, but it was of a nature that imposed one more difficulty in his path.

"Are you Miss Winifred Bartlett?" asked Mrs. Carshaw the next afternoon in that remote part of East Twenty-seventh Street which for the first time bore the rubber tires of her l...