The Sturgis wager

Broadway was thronged with the usual holiday shoppers and pleasure-seekers. Cabs with their jaded steeds driven by weatherbeaten jehus, and private carriages behind well-groomed...

"What I mean to assert," said Ralph Sturgis, with quiet conviction, "is that every crime is its own historian; that all its minutest details are written in circumstantial eviden...

Sprague's stag dinner was virtually over when a servant brought in a copy of the _Evening Tempest_. The dessert had been removed, the coffee and liqueurs had been served, and th...

The reporter did not often spend an evening in worldly dissipation. He was a man of action, a hard worker and an enthusiastic student. Almost all of the time which was not actua...

"There now," said he, as he prepared to write, "I shall begin with what I shall call the Cab Mystery. The data in this case are already plentiful and curious. I shall read as I...

Sprague was a dilettante in art as he was in life. If he had not been rich, he might perhaps have become a great artist. But, lacking the spur of poverty, he seemed incapable of...

In a quarter of the city which is rapidly surrendering to the relentless encroachments of trade, there still stand a few old-fashioned houses, the sole survivors of what was onc...

Sprague was seated before his easel arranging his palette for the morning's work. The unfinished portrait of Agnes Murdock looked down upon him with eyes of living beauty. Occas...

Richard Dunlap was a man who had never missed a train nor been late in keeping an appointment. On the morning following Sprague's dinner party, he walked briskly down Broadway f...

"A man something over fifty years of age, quite bald, with a fringe of gray hair; wears a heavy moustache and side-whiskers; and had on yesterday afternoon, when you last saw hi...

"There is no difficulty about that," replied Sturgis. "The differences are very marked. I know Arbogast's foot because I have seen it; and I know that the other one is Chatham's...

Late that same evening, Sturgis returned to his lodgings, after a busy day spent in working upon the Knickerbocker bank case. He was tired and he was perplexed; for, with all hi...

"Yes. As reporter of _The Tempest_, I was able to obtain an interview with him. When first arrested, the man, whose name, by the way, is Reilly, was incapable of making a connec...

There is a magic in the refreshing sleep of youth, calculated to exorcise the megrims. When Sprague, arising after a good night's rest, found the world bathed in the sunshine of...

"He aint no thafe, Miss," said the maid, positively; "he do be dressed up too foine fur that. Besoides, Oi've sane him here before. A hansum young feller wid rid hair----Mister-...

"I tell you, Sturgis, it is a wonderful discovery. I don't know what applications may ultimately be made of it in other branches of science; but I am convinced that it is bound...

Half an hour later, Sturgis was walking briskly down Broadway, with his usual air of absent-minded concentration. Presently he turned into a side street and at once slackened hi...

A few minutes later, Sturgis, apparently absorbed in the contemplation of the paintings which hung in the hall, heard the door of Murdock's study open softly. Although the repor...

"You would better have a revolver," said the reporter. "You will probably have no occasion to use it," he added in answer to his friend's glance, "but it is best to be on the sa...

Sprague seated himself upon the long pine box; and Sturgis, dropping into the only chair, began his narrative. As he talked, he carelessly whittled the cover of the wooden box w...

Before the men had gone many steps a grating sound reached their ears from the direction of the skylight. They looked up and saw sliding steel shutters slowly and ponderously cl...

After Sprague had left her, Agnes, shaken by the conflicting emotions of the day, had gone to her room to rest and to prepare for the interview which she meant to have with her...

Nature has implanted in every one of its living creatures, from the top to the bottom of the scale, the strongest of all instincts--that of self-preservation. As Sturgis fell fo...

The two detectives, after leaving Sprague and Sturgis in the cellar of the Manhattan Chemical Company, proceeded to search the premises from basement to roof. Then, somewhat dis...

"See here, Sturgis; this won't do. I forbade you to do a stroke of work to-day, or even to leave your bed; and here you are scribbling away just as though nothing had happened....