The Black Eagle Mystery

When I came down she was waiting for me. With a finger against her lips in a command for silence, she turned and went along the passage to the door from which I had seen her ent...

_Murder!_ Will I ever forget that night when Babbitts told me, the two of us shut in our room! I can see his face now, thrust out toward me, all strained and staring, his voice...

With the fitting of the murder on Johnston Barker, the office of Whitney & Whitney drew in its breath, took a cinch in its belt, and went at the work with a quiet, deadly zest....

The Black Eagle Building is part-way downtown—not one of the skyscrapers that crowd together on the tip of the Island’s tongue and not one of the advance guard squeezing in amon...

As I sat there between him and Mr. George—Jack Reddy went away, I don’t know why—with neither of them saying a word, I saw, like it was a vision, the Harland case spreading out...

You can imagine after that disappointment in Philadelphia—it seems an unfeeling way to speak of the death of an old gentleman—how we all turned our eyes and kept them fixed on T...

The account of Molly’s dinner with Tony Ford was given Sunday morning by Molly herself to George and the chief in the Whitney home. I went there in the afternoon—dread of possib...

The next morning Babbitts and I started out for the offices of Whitney & Whitney. They’re far downtown, near Wall Street, way up in the top of a skyscraper where the air is good...

In the moment of silence which followed that sentence you could hear the fire snap and the tick of the clock on the mantel. I saw the men’s faces held in expressions of amazemen...

That night when I left Molly there was only one thought in my mind—to reach Carol and help her get away. If the figure of Barker had not stood between us I would have then and t...

I’ll call him Babbitts to you because that’s the name you’ll remember him by—that is if you know about the Hesketh Mystery. I generally call him "Soapy," the name the reporters...

This chapter in our composite story falls to me, not because I can write it better but because I was present at that strange interview which changed the whole face of the Harlan...

To say that the expectant Whitney office got a jolt is putting it mildly. On the threshold of success, to meet such a setback enraged George and made even the chief grouchy. The...

The appalling suicide of Hollings Harland, followed by the non-appearance of Johnston Barker, precipitated one of the most spectacular smashes Wall Street had seen since the day...

Inside an hour O’Mally, Babbitts and I were on our way to Philadelphia. All friction was forgotten, a bigger issue had extinguished the sparks that had come near bursting into f...

As the taxi rolled up to her corner I saw that the windows of her floor were bright. She was still up, which would make things easier—much better than having to wake her from he...

The day after the Harland inquest I meant to go down and see Iola and find out if she’d heard anything from Miss Whitehall. But that day I got sidetracked some way or other and...

I heard all this late that night from Babbitts. But there was more to it than I’ve told in the last chapter, for after they left the hospital O’Mally and Babbitts went to the Wh...

For the next few days my moling was stopped—Troop was down with grippe and a substitute in his place. There was nothing to do but sit in my little hole by the elevators, passing...

They all came back on Wednesday night, late, in the small hours. I had a wire from Babbitts—and Gosh, as I sat up waiting for him I thought I’d die right there on my own parlor...

That night Babbitts, O’Mally and I left for Quebec. Before we went the wires that connected us with the Canadian city had been busy. St. Foy 584 had been located, a house on a s...