Under Three Flags: A Story of Mystery

“I am,” answers Barker. “For nearly a year I have been on the track of the murderer of Roger Hathaway, being ably seconded in my quest by my friend Jack Ashley. The trail has be...

“Well, my boy,” begins Barker, “it’s a long lane that has no turn, and I think we have reached the beginning of the end of this Hathaway mystery. There is the weapon that sent R...

The usual congress of village gossips is in session to-night at the Exchange hotel. It is the fourth day since the Raymond Bank affair, and the details of the tragedy are discus...

“What is that to you, sir?” Don Manada turns fiercely upon the gentleman who has tapped him upon the shoulder and requested the pleasure of a few moments’ conversation with him.

“Don’t get the idea, I see,” remarks Ashley. “Well, let me think. ‘Huevos’ means eggs, I know that much, but what the deuce is soft-boiled? I believe ‘blondo’ is soft, and soft...

The boats have reached the Semiramis. Louise Hathaway has been tenderly assisted to the deck by Van Zandt, followed by Navarro and Barker, and the dead form of Cyrus Felton has...

Ten, fifteen minutes pass. The tread of the carcelero on his rounds sounds from the corridor and a light is flashed into the cell. A counterfeit snore from Ashley greets him and...

“Raymond, Vt., May 31.—This quiet town among the Green Mountains had cause indeed to mourn upon this year’s occurrence of the nation’s Memorial Day. Last evening, at the close o...

“Upon my return from Ashfield I called upon Cyrus Felton, found him at his residence and interviewed him in his library for fully an hour. When I introduced myself as a detectiv...

“Stand back!” commands Navarro, as his men start forward to the enraged Alvarez, whose fingers have twined about the insurgent leader’s neck. “Back, I say! I can handle this gen...

The landlord shouts to the hostler, who leads Rozinante away to his well-earned grain, and Ashley follows Carter into the hotel, with the remark: “I do not care to have those ch...

The big, white moon that rolls through “heaven’s ebon vault” and pales the glow of the southern cross looks down upon two young people on the veranda of El Quinta de Quesada. Th...

The sun is creeping up the range of hills when Ashley and Navarro leave the Hotel Royal and set forth at a smart pace for the meeting with Capt. Raymon Huerta. Ashley is in his...

The big French ball, that annual revel at the metropolis, brings together a motley assemblage of the devotees of folly. The scene at the entrance to Madison Square Garden to-nig...

For a town the size of Raymond, 3,000-odd inhabitants, the Mansfield County court house is an unusually large and commodious structure. But the spacious room is not nearly adequ...

He bows gracefully to the tall gentleman who advances to meet his visitor, bearing in his hand the card that has preceded him. Don Rafael is a man at whom even the least observa...

“We shall have a race, Don Manada—a battle royal. The new United States cruiser America has just steamed out of the bay ahead of us and we shall soon be abreast of her.”

“Heavens! They have just sized up my condition and sent an ambulance,” Barker grunts, as his eyes rest for the first time on that marvel of vehicular construction, a Cuban volan...

The Semiramis rests stationary upon the surface of the water, but there are scenes of activity in the engine-room. The columns of smoke from her stacks grow into thick black vol...

Ashley retorts calmly. “I repeat, Captain Huerta, what I have asserted. As my wife, this woman is an American citizen. An order from you to your men to fire upon or seize us, wi...

“Thank you. I will detain you but a short time.” Jack Ashley follows Miss Hathaway into the half-lighted drawing room, accepts the offered chair and seats himself beside the big...

For all it began so decorously, this year’s ball is a particularly riotous affair and already the fantastic orgee is well under way. Masks have been scattered to the patchouli-l...

“My name is Phillip Van Zandt. I don’t wonder, Ralph Felton, that you fail to recognize me by that name, though it is my true one. But you will understand why I have sought you...

Toward 10 o’clock Louise Hathaway decides that she has witnessed enough of the brilliant panorama to warrant her in returning to the hotel, and as Cyrus Felton is plainly bored...

“I am always happy when I am near you, senorita,” is Jack’s fervent response. At which speech, the warmest she has ever heard from his lips, Juanita grows as rosy as the morn an...

“Gad! This country is a howling wilderness of pie!” he mutters, surveying the repast in comical despair. “And to flash it on a man at 4 a.m.! It is simply barbarous!”

Scarcely has a third of the distance to Santiago been covered when horse and rider realize that the pace set is no longer compatible with the Cuban climate. As Rozinante settles...

He is a striking-looking young fellow, even in his prison garb, his dark hair cropped close and his eyes cast down in the passive manner enjoined by the prison regulations. His...

“I suppose this is the Madison Square of Santiago,” remarks Jack Ashley, as he notes approvingly the brilliant spectacle which the plaza affords, now that the tropic night is at...

“Raymond, Vt., June 1.—A startling sequel to the murder of Cashier Hathaway and the robbery of the Raymond National and Wild River Savings Banks was developed to-day in the myst...

Cyrus Felton, Phillip Van Zandt and Louise Hathaway are seated on the veranda of the little Cafe de Almendras, on the outskirts of Santiago. They have returned this morning from...

“Twelve hours from now, Miss Hathaway, you will have your first glimpse of Cuba. Then, our business transacted, a quick and uninterrupted run to Santiago, and to-morrow you will...

An ordinary man, suddenly placed in the position in which Jack Ashley finds himself, would perhaps exhaust his strength in useless imprecations upon his oppressors, and finish b...

Half a dozen hours from the time that Jack Ashley mounts his newly acquired Rozinante and rides forth from Santiago on his journey into the west, a visitor arrives at Le Quinta...

After supper Ashley retreats to the most secluded corner of the veranda and amuses himself blowing smoke rings over the railing. Barker has been gone ever since morning. He must...

“Much,” is Barker’s smiling response. “Now, my boy,” he adds briskly, as he extracts a bunch of writing paper from his grip and sharpens his pencil, “tell me everything you know...

About 9:30 of the morning following the French ball Phillip Van Zandt drops into his favorite seat in the dining-room of the St. James hotel and picks up the morning paper.

“Whoa, Rozinante! If thou art as weary of this road as I, good beast, a rest will not go against thy grain, or grass. What say you to a halt of half an hour within the shade of...

“If she is the property of the revolutionists, gentlemen, with her phenomenal speed she can run the strictest blockade the Spaniards can institute, can land arms, ammunition and...

“Following along the lines of your theory,” continues Ashley, “if Ralph Felton rose from the corpse of Roger Hathaway and confronted his father upon the threshold of the cashier...

Half a mile to the eastward, the landlord tells him, a trail leads off into the mountains. Ashley remembers passing it in the morning. Fortifying himself with a dinner, he sets...

“Forgotten? Ah, no, indeed. I was only startled to meet one familiar face amid this never-ending procession of strangers. But this, I presume, is your native heath, Mr. Ashley?...

The month is March. Nearly a year has elapsed since Ashley’s first visit to the Vermont town which, for a brief space, came into the world’s eye as the scene of the mysterious d...

“There is something very odd in Mr. Van Zandt’s actions,” remarks Miss Hathaway, as she and Mr. Felton follow the winding trail down the hillside to the sea. The latter offers n...

“Jack, Mr. Ricker wants to see you,” is the information extended to Ashley when he reaches the office. He reports at the room of the city editor, and that gentleman informs him...

A pencil of sunlight has struggled through the heavy draperies at the windows and laid a tiny straight line across the carpet in the comfortable apartments of Jack Ashley on Wes...

He soon indulges in a nap, while the train rumbles on, by the scattered negro huts, with their ebon-hued occupants drawn up in solemn array to watch the flying cars, through the...

Upon his return to the ball-room Ashley is taken to task by General Murillo. “I have been searching for you for over half an hour,” the general assures him. “Come over here whil...

When the first boat is alongside the America, Barker is the first man to clamber to the deck, and the first individual he gets his eye on is Jack Ashley.

“Not yet; not for an hour. In short, we are going to burn some powder by and by. A little target practice, and if you have never seen anything of the sort you will be rather int...

“Really, Mr. Lord, I cannot furnish a detailed statement of my every movement during the last week,” he says, nonchalantly. “I witnessed the procession, or at least the local po...

Phillip Van Zandt smiles, but makes no reply to this reproach. And while he listens intently to the divine music which the orchestra is making, his companion sips her claret pun...

“No; I am not tired of life. Who could be on such a day? I am weary simply of this way of living. I want to get away—away from this stagnant hole. It is the same dull story over...

It is something like ten miles to Cadoza, another and smaller railway town, and Ashley arrives about noon. There is no American hotel here. Instead, a lazy Cuban keeps a shiftle...

Van Zandt and Louise stand, hand in hand, gazing sorrowfully upon all that is mortal of Cyrus Felton. A crash is heard below, as the front door is burst from its hinges.

“Well, I drifted into Phil’s one night three years ago, more or less, and found the place as quiet as a country village. There was no big game going on, and mighty few small one...

“There are only two bits of evidence needed to complete my moral conviction that I am the only person connected with the Raymond tragedy who is not in Cuba or on his way thither...

“By Jove! I had no idea the captain had so much sporting blood in his veins,” murmurs Jack Ashley to himself, as he watches alternately the challenging craft and the America. “I...

“I believe this is the exact spot; yes, I am sure it is. Drop your anchor, Ashley, so that the bow will point up-stream,” says Barker, as he grasps a long pole with a hook at on...