The Yellow Typhoon

Mathison dashed into the cabin, inhaled sharply, and his inhalation thrilled him. An unknown but pleasant odor tingled his nostrils. His glance roved quickly. On the floor, unde...

As soon as the curtain fell Mathison stood up and plowed his way out to the aisle. Once in the aisle, he rushed to the foyer, where he demanded the way to the managerial office....

Out San Miguel way there are many two-storied brick villas with Spanish-red tiles. Sometimes there are three or four almost neighborly, then one aloof and alone. In Manila most...

The Mathison estate was in the foothills of the Adirondacks. There were farmlands, pulp-mills, forests, and streams. At the northern extremity of the estate there was a small la...

Straightway Mathison put his arm under hers and began plowing along through the snow, which was more than ankle-deep. As his stride was long, she slipped and staggered to keep p...

As the man in the limousine jumped out his chauffeur pointed his hand menacingly at the chauffeur on the taxicab seat. That individual raised his arms without resistance. He cou...

A naval officer, trig in his white twill, strode along the Escolta, Manila's leading thoroughfare. There was something in his stride that suggested anger; and the settled grimne...

Mathison undressed slowly. He was still hypnotized to a certain extent by the several amazing events of the night. From the shadowy corners of the compartment the woman's face p...

Meantime the jar of the battle had not passed unnoticed. The guests in the rooms adjoining and below had been telephoning the office. The clerk, aware that there were Secret Ser...

For a space Mathison did not stir. There was something hypnotic in this singular visitation, but it was physical rather than mental. He stared at the blank square of the window...

"It sure is. Yo' can't see yo' hand befo' yo' face. I tol' de cabby t' take yo' straight t' de Watkins. On'y a sho't ways. De Watkins is fash'nable an' has a cobbyray--leastwise...

Immediately after "chow" that night Mathison and Hallowell entered the living-room, filling their pipes. They were both smiling, each with the idea that he was bucking up the ot...

Mathison, his pipe dead in his teeth, leaned against the starboard rail and stared with unseeing eyes. It was Sunday, the first day out of Manila. The northeast trade was blowin...

He opened one of the kit-bags and dug out his letter-portfolio. He cleared a space on the table and sat down, facing the young woman, though apparently giving her no more attent...

Mathison accepted the blow quietly. He had the air of a spent athlete, but that was all. He was a good loser. To have rushed about, sending out alarms, advising the Secret Servi...

But Mathison stepped out tamely, his hands above his head. She followed, slightly chilled. Her arms hung at her side. This was not quite as she would have had it. Why didn't he...

Mathison fought nausea, terror; fought the paralysis gathering in his legs, and pushed through the curtain, feeling along the wall for the key-button to all the lights. He blink...

Mathison stepped aside, not only physically, but figuratively. He saw that for a little while he was to be an outsider. There was a strange tragedy here, and it was going to be...

There are some astonishments which cannot be translated verbally. So great was Mathison's that he could neither think nor move. The aftermath of a thunderbolt affects you like t...