“Are you satisfied, Beth?” Elizabeth Secrest turned with a smile to the two girls who had come up behind her, their footfalls silent in the sand. “The world is mine,” she answered, with a comprehensive sweep of her arm and hand toward the foaming surf which was almost at their feet. “Doesn’t it fill you, some way?” - An adventure story from the 1920's re-typeset and reprinted.

As time passed, I realized more and more how unusual and interesting his adventures were, and I urged him to write an account of them. He began with enthusiasm, but soon tired of the unaccustomed work. Later, however, after the buffalo had been exterminated and we were settled on a cattle-ranch, where the life was of a deadly monotony compared with that which we had led, I induced him to take up the narrative once more. Some parts of it he wrote with infinite detail; other parts consisted only of dates and a few sentences. He was destined never to finish the task. An old bullet wound in his lung had always kept him in poor health, and when, in the winter of 1885, he contracted pneumonia, the end was quick. His last request was that I would put his notes in shape for publication.

A whirl of gleaming sand and dust on a cross desert road in Arizona. The four galloping objects turned off the road, horses rearing, riders laughing; the two Eastern girls flushed, excited; the pale college student exultant; the cowboy guide enjoying their pleasure. A warm, sage-scented wind carried the cloud of dust away from them down into the valley. “That was glorious sport, wasn’t it, Mary?” Dora Bellman’s olive-tinted face was glowing joyfully. “Wouldn’t our equestrian teacher back in Sunnybank Seminary be properly proud of us?” Lovely Mary Moore, delicately fashioned, fair as her friend was dark, nodded beamingly, too out of breath for the moment to speak.

A paranormal romance that spans the centuries from modern England to 19th century Paris and ancient Cappadocia. Madison Greene is in foster care until one day she inherits a fortune, she inherits a house, she inherits a cellar full of danger. Alexandre Chevalier lives in 19th century Paris. On an archaeological expedition, he discovers a lost underground city where his life changes forever. Their lives entwine, but this is only the beginning...

CHAPTER I "DO YOU SPEAK GERMAN?" "Hey, there, Mister!" called out Jabez Holt, from one of the two office windows in the little hotel at Dunhaven. As there was only one other man in the office, that other man guessed that he might be the one addressed. With a slight German accent the stranger, who was well-dressed, and looked like a prosperous as well as an educated man, turned and demanded: "You are calling me?" "I reckon," nodded Jabez. "Then my name is Herr Professor—" "Hair professor?" repeated Jabez Holt, a bit of astonishment showing in his wrinkled old face. "Hair professor? Barber, eh? Why, I thought you was a traveler. But hurry up over here—do you hear me?" "My good man," began the German, stiffly, drawing himself up to his full six-foot-one, "it is not often I am affronted by being addressed so—" "There! He'll be outer sight in another minute, while you are arguin' about your dignity!" muttered Holt. "And that's the feller you said you wanted to see—Jack Benson." "Benson?" cried the German, forgetting his outraged dignity and springing forward. "Benson?" "That's him—almost up to the corner," nodded Landlord Jabez Holt. "Run out and bring him back with you," directed Herr Professor Radberg."Be quick!" "Waal, I guess you're spryer'n I be," returned old Jabez, with a shrewd look at his guest. "Besides, it's you that wants the boy." Running back and snatching up his hat, Professor Radberg made for the street without further argument. Moving along hastily, the German soon came in sight of young Captain JackBenson, of the Pollard Submarine Torpedo Boat Company. "Ach, there! Herr Benson!" shouted the Professor. Hearing the hail, Jack Benson turned, then halted. "You are Herr Benson, are you not?" demanded Professor Radberg, as soon as he got close enough. "Benson is my name," nodded Jack, pleasantly. "Then come back to the hotel with me." "You are a foreigner, aren't you?" asked Jack, surveying the stranger coolly. "I am German," replied Radberg, in a tone of surprise. "I thought so," nodded the boy. "That is, I didn't know from what country you came. But, in this country, when we ask a favor of a stranger, we usually say 'please.'" "I am Herr Professor—" "Oh, barbers are just as polite as other folks," Jack assured him, his laughing eyes resting on the somewhat bewildered-looking face of the German. "Then please, Herr Benson, come back to the hotel with me." "Yes; if it's really necessary. But why do you want to go to the hotel?" "Because, Herr Benson, when we are there, I shall have much of importance to say to you." "Important to me, or to you?" asked Jack, thoughtfully. He had no intention of answering a much older man disrespectfully. But there was about Herr Radberg the air of a man who expects his greatness to be recognized at a glance, and who demands obedience from common people as a right. This sort of thing didn't fit well with the American boy. "Oh, it is important to you, and very much so," urged the Professor, somewhat more anxiously....

The Bobbsey Twins are the principal characters of what was, for many years, the longest-running series of children's novles. The books related the adventures of the children of the middle-class Bobbsey family, which included two sets of fraternal twins: Bert and Nan, who where 12 years old, and Flossie and Freddie, who where six. Share the stories of your childhood with your children and grandchildren! Here are the original Bobbsey Twin adventures

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

PREFACE. Several persons have asked me when Tom Slade was ever going to grow up and cease to be a Scout. The answer is that he is already grown up and that he is never going to cease to be a Scout. Once a Scout, always a Scout. To hear some people talk one would think that scouting is like the measles; that you get over it and never have it any more. Scouting is not a thing to play with, like a tin steam-engine, and then to throw aside. If you once get caught in the net of scouting, you will never disentangle yourself. A fellow may grow up and put on long trousers and go and call on a girl and all that sort of thing, but if he was a Scout, he will continue to be a Scout, and it will stick out all over him. You'll find him back in the troop as assistant or scoutmaster or something or other. I think Tom Slade is a very good example. He left the troop to go and work on a transport; he got into the motorcycle messenger service; he became one of the greatest daredevils of the air; he came home quite "grown up" as you would say, and knuckled down to be a big business man. Then, when it came to a show down, what did he do? He found out that he was just a plain Scout, shouldered his axe, and went off and did a big scout job all alone. So there you are. I am sorry for those who would have him too old for scouting, and who seem to think that a fellow can lay aside all he has learned in the woods and in the handbook, the same as he can lay aside his short trousers. It isn't as easy as all that. Did you suppose that Tom Slade was going to get acquainted with nature, with the woods and streams and trees, and make them his friends, and then repudiate these friends? Do you think that a Scout is a quitter? Tom Slade was always a queer sort of duck, and goodness only knows what he will do next. He may go to the North Pole for all I know. But one thing you may be sure of; he is still a Scout of the Scouts, and if you think he is too old to be a Scout, then how about Buffalo Bill? The fact is that Tom is just beginning to reap the real harvest of scouting. The best is yet to come, as Pee-wee Harris usually observes, just before dessert is served at dinner. If it is any satisfaction to you to know it, Tom is more of a Scout than at any time in his career, and there is a better chance of his being struck by lightening than his drifting away from the troop whose adventures you have followed with his. It is true that Tom has grown faster than his companions and found it necessary to go to work while they are still at school. And this very circumstance will enable us to see what scouting has done for him. Indeed if I could not show you that, then all of those eight stores of his adventures would have been told to little purpose. The chief matter of interest about a trail is where it leads to. It may be an easy trail or a hard trail, but the question is, where does it go to? It would be a fine piece of business, I think, to leave Tom sitting on a rock near the end of the trail without giving you so much as a glimpse of what is at the end of it....

As a boy, Tod saves the small white fawn from certain death. They grow up together but when the fine stag leaves, Tod could never have predicted that he would become so powerful that he becomes King. And no kingdom can have two kings.

“Look out, Dot! You’ll fall off that chair as sure as you live, child!” Tess was bustling and important. It was baking day in the Kenway household. She had the raisins to stone, and the smallest Kenway was climbing up to put the package of raisins back upon the cupboard shelf. There was going to be a cake for the morrow. Ruth was a-flour to her elbows, and Aggie was stirring the eggs till the beater was just “a-whiz.” Crash! Bang! Over went the chair; down came Dot; and the raisins scattered far and wide over the freshly scrubbed linoleum. Fortunately the little busy-body was not hurt. “What did I tell you?” demanded the raisin-seeder, after Ruth had made sure there were no broken bones, and only a “skinned” place on Dot’s wrist. “What did I tell you? You are such a careless child!”

It doesn’t seem likely for twins to have the same middle name. Even so, it’s clear that Castor and Pollux Stone both have "Trouble" written in that spot on their birth certificates. Of course, anyone who’s met their grandmother Hazel would know that they came by it honestly… Join the Stone twins as they connive, cajole, and bamboozle their way across the Solar System in the company of the most high-spirited and hilarious family in all of science fiction. This light-hearted tale has some of Heinlein’s sassiest dialogue (not to mention the famous Flat Cats incident!). Oddly enough, it’s also a true example of real family values–for when you’re a Stone, your family is your highest priority.

A wild and wacky SF series--based on the popular BBC-TV series--reminiscent of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Lister--who passed out drunk in London and awakened in a locker on a moon of Saturn--now finds himself trapped in a computer game that transports players to the perfect world of their imaginations--a game people are literally dying to play.

NANCY'S LOOKING FOR THE TRICKSTER WHO'S SPOILING ALL THE FUN!Nancy, Bess, and George are having a blast at the River Heights Carnival, sampling yummy snacks and trying to win prizes. Most of all, the girls can't wait for their favorite local singing star, Isabelle Santoro, to perform. But Isabelle may cancel if she finds out that someone's ruining all the fun with really annoying pranks. Snooty Brenda Carlton, annoying Orson Wong, and Chloe "Cruncher" Mondesky, the pie-contest queen, all make good suspects. Nancy's clue book is filling up, and she's got to solve this puzzle fast -- so the fun, and the show, can go on!

Julia is very short for her age, but by the end of the summer run of The Wizard of Oz, she'll realize how big she is inside, where it counts. She hasn't ever thought of herself as a performer, but when the wonderful director of Oz casts her as a Munchkin, she begins to see herself in a new way. As Julia becomes friendly with the poised and wise Olive - one of the adults with dwarfism who've joined the production's motley crew of Munchkins - and with her deeply artistic neighbor, Mrs. Chang, Julia's own sense of self as an artist grows. Soon, she doesn't want to fade into the background and it's a good thing, because her director has more big plans for Julia!

Harold Fuzzwonker, Floyd, and the Fizzies are under attack: Floozombies have invaded Pflugerville! Bestselling author Patrick Carman and Emmy-winning illustrator Brian Sheesley return with the second book in the hilarious and zany Fizzopolis series, perfect for fans of Big Nate and Stick Dog. What do you get when you mix burptastic Fuzzwonker Fizz with crummy Flooze candy in the Fizzomatic machine? Floozombies, of course! Harold Fuzzwonker, his best good buddy, Floyd, and the Fizzies have a real problem on their hands, in the shape of slimy, gloppy monsters. Not only must Harold protect Floyd and the secret recipe for Fuzzwonker Fizz from the sneaky Snood family, he also has to stop the Floozombies before they take over the town, all while guarding the biggest secret of all: Fizzopolis!