Oscar Wilde - "Lord Arthur Savile's Crime and Other Stories"

Maurice Leblanc - "The Hollow Needle"

Frederick Marryat - "Mr. Midshipman Easy"

James Joyce - "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: The Mystery of the Four Fingers

F >> Fred M. White >> The Mystery of the Four Fingers




It was the cripple who first recovered his self-possession.

"I am sorry to trouble you," he said, "but I am afraid we have rather
forgotten ourselves. You know me, of course?"

"Oh, yes, sir," the first officer replied. "You are Mr. Bates, the
gentleman who is supposed to have been kidnapped the other night; the
inspector told me that you were still on the Continent."

"Well, I am not," the cripple said curtly. "I am back home again, as you
can see with your own eyes. The gentleman over there with the yellow
face is Mr. Mark Fenwick, the well-known millionaire. I daresay you have
heard of him."

Both officers touched their hats respectfully; they had probably come
here prepared to make more than one arrest and thus cover themselves with
comparative glory; but the mere mention of Fenwick's name settled that
point once and for all.

"As you are probably aware," the cripple went on, "until quite recently
Mr. Fenwick was staying at the Great Empire Hotel, but the place was too
public for one of his gentle and retiring disposition, and so he made
arrangements to take my house furnished, though the understanding was
that nobody should know anything about it, and nobody would have known
anything about it but for the fact that in the way of business Mr.
Fenwick had to consult these other gentlemen. Perhaps they don't look in
the least like it, but they are all American capitalists, having made
their money by gold mining. They don't look a very attractive lot,
officer, but if you knew them as well as I do you would learn to love
them for their many engaging qualities, and their purity of heart."

The officers touched their helmets again, and appeared to be undecided in
their minds as to whether the cripple was chaffing them or not. But
though his voice had a certain playfulness of tone, his face was quite
grave and steadfast.

"Very well, sir," the foremost of the constables said. "I understand that
neither of you gentlemen desires to make any charge against the other. I
shall have to make a note of this."

"Of course you will," the cripple said sweetly. "Now I appeal to Mr.
Fenwick and his companions as to whether or not the whole thing has not
been a silly misunderstanding. You see, officer, gold mining is rather a
thirsty business, and occasionally leads to rather more champagne than is
good for one. I can only apologise to my tenant, Mr. Fenwick, for losing
my temper, and I will at once rid him of my presence. It is getting very
late, and I can come round in the morning and make my peace here. As I am
a little lame, I will ask one of you officers to give me your arm.
Charles, will you be good enough to give me your arm also? I wish you
good-night, Mr. Fenwick. In fact, I wish all of you good-night. I shall
not fail to call round in the morning--"

"But you are not going," Fenwick cried in dismay. "You are not going away
from your own house at this time of night?"

"You forget," the cripple said, gravely, "that for the time being you are
my tenant, and that I have no more right in this house, indeed, not so
much right, as one of these policemen. I have sent my servants away, and
I am at present staying--in fact, it does not matter much where I am
staying. Come along."

The trap was so neatly laid and so coolly worked that Fenwick could only
sit and gasp in his chair, while his two victims walked quietly away in
the most natural manner in the world.

"We had better be off," Gurdon whispered. "There is no occasion for us to
stay any longer. Let us follow the cripple. By Jove, I never saw anything
done more neatly than that!"




CHAPTER XV

FELIX ZARY


It would have been a comparatively easy matter for the two friends to
have slipped out of the house before the cripple came down the stairs
accompanied by the young man who called himself Charles Evors. The front
door was still open, and there was no one to bar their way. Then it
suddenly occurred to Gurdon that by so doing they would betray the secret
of the moveable panel which communicated with the house next door.

"It would never do to go away like this," he said, hurriedly. "Besides,
it is more than likely that we shall want to use that entrance again.
We shall have to run the risk of losing sight of the cripple; anything
is better than leaving that panel open for the servants to discover in
the morning."

Venner could see for himself at once that there was no help for it, so
without any further discussion on the matter, the two men hurried down
the stairs, their feet making no noise on the thick carpet, and then they
darted through the hole into the house next door. It was only the work of
a moment to replace the panel, but hardly had they done so before they
heard a confused murmur of voices on the other side. Gurdon pressed his
back to the panel until the noise of the voices ceased.

"That was a pretty close call," he said. "Give me the mouldings and I
will try to make them secure without any unnecessary noise. I daresay we
can get the nails to fit the same holes. Anyway, there must be no
hammering, or we shall be pretty sure to rouse the suspicions of the
people next door."

It was perhaps fortunate that the mouldings fitted so well, for Gurdon
managed to work the nails into the original holes and complete a more or
less workmanlike job to his own satisfaction. Certainly, anybody who was
not in the secret would never have detected anything wrong with the
panels or imagined for a moment that they had been so recently moved.

"That's a good job well done," Venner said.

"Yes, but what do you do it for? In fact, what are you two gentlemen
doing here at all?"

The voice came with a startling suddenness. It was an exceedingly clear,
melodious voice, yet with a steely ring in it. The two friends wheeled
round sharply to find themselves face to face with an exceedingly tall
individual, whose length was almost grotesquely added to by the amazing
slimness of his figure. In that respect he was not at all unlike the type
of human skeleton which one generally expects to find in a travelling
circus, or some show of that kind. The man, moreover, was dressed in
deep black, which added to his solemnity. He had an exceedingly long,
melancholy face, on both sides of which hung a mass of oily-looking black
hair; his nose, too, was elongated and thin, and a long drooping
moustache concealed his mouth. On the whole his appearance was redeemed
from the grotesque by an extraordinary pair of black eyes, which were
round and large as those of a Persian cat. Despite the man's exceeding
thinness, he conveyed a certain suggestion of strength. At that moment he
had a handkerchief between his fingers, and Gurdon could see that his
wrists were supple and pliable as if they had been made of india rubber.
Gurdon had heard that sort of hands before described as conjurer's hands.
As he looked at them he half expected to see the handkerchief disappear
and an orange or apple or something of that kind take its place. Then the
stranger coolly walked across the hall and turned up another of the
lights. He seemed to be perfectly at home, and conveyed a curious
impression to the visitors that he expected to find them there.

"I beg to remind you that you have not yet answered my question," he
said. "What are you doing here?"

"Let me answer your question with another," Venner said. "Who are you,
and what may you be doing here?"

The man smiled in a peculiar fashion. His big black eyes seemed to
radiate sparks; they were luminous and full of vivid fury, though, at the
same time, the long horse-like face never for a moment lost its look of
profound dejection. They might have been eyes gleaming behind a dull,
painted mask.

"We will come to that presently," he said. "For the moment the mention of
my name must content you. It is just possible that you might have heard
the name of Felix Zary."

Venner and Gurdon fairly started. The name of Felix Zary was familiar to
them, but only during the last three-quarters of an hour. In fact, that
was the name of the man as to whose whereabouts Fenwick had been so
anxious to hear. Here was another element in the mystery, which, up to
this moment, had not advanced very far towards solution.

"I have heard the name before," Venner said, "but only quite
recently--within the last hour, in fact."

"Oh, yes," the stranger said, "I know exactly what you mean. You
probably heard it next door when you were listening so intently to
the conversation between my friend Charles Le Fenu, the cripple, and
that scoundrel who calls himself Fenwick. He is exceedingly anxious
to know where I am, though without the smallest intention of
benefitting me. Before long, his curiosity will be gratified; but
not in the way he thinks."

The latter words came from the speaker's lips with a spitting hiss, such
as a cat emits in the presence of a dog. The great round black eyes
added intensity to the threat, and rendered the feline simile complete.
The prophecy boded ill for Fenwick when at length he and Felix Zary came
face to face.

"I see my conjecture is quite right," the stranger went on. "And as to
you gentlemen, I have asked your names merely as a matter of courtesy. As
a matter of fact I know perfectly well who you are--you are Mr. Gerald
Venner and Mr. James Gurdon. But there is one thing I don't know, and
that is why you have thrust yourself into this diabolical business. You
must be brave men, or absolutely unconscious of the terrible danger you
are running. If either of you are friends of Fenwick's--"

"Not for a moment," Venner cried. "You pay us a poor compliment indeed if
you take us to be in any way friendly with that scoundrel."

"And yet you are here," Zary went on. "You are spying on the movements of
my friend, Le Fenu. You have contrived to obtain possession of the keys
of his house for no other purpose. Why?"

Venner paused before he answered the question. He did not recognise the
right of this man to put him through a cross-examination. Indeed, it
seemed to him, the less he said the better. Perhaps Zary saw something
of what was going on in his mind, for his big black eyes smiled, though
the dejected visage remained the same.

"I see, you do not trust me," he said. "Perhaps you are right to be
cautious. Let me ask you another question, assuring you at the same time
that I am the friend of Charles Le Fenu and his sisters, and that if
necessary I will lay down my life to save them from trouble. Tell me, Mr.
Venner, why are you so interested in saving the girl who passes for
Fenwick's daughter from her miserable position? Tell me."

Zary came a step or two closer to Venner and looked down into his face
with a searching yearning expression in those magnetic black eyes. The
appeal to Venner was irresistible. The truth rose to his lips; it refused
to be kept back.

"Because," he said slowly, "because she is my wife."

A great sigh of relief came from Zary.

"I am glad of that," he said. "Exceedingly glad. And yet I had suspected
something of the kind. It is good for me to know that I am with friends,
and that you two are only actuated by the best motives. For some days now
I have had you under close observation. I followed you here to-night;
indeed, I was in the house when you removed those panels. As a matter of
fact, Mr. Gurdon's first involuntary visit here absolutely ruined a
carefully laid plan of mine for getting Mark Fenwick into my hands. But
I will tell you later on all about the mystery of the furnished
dining-room and how and why the furniture vanished so strangely. When I
followed you here to-night I was quite prepared to shoot you both if
necessary, but some strange impulse came over me to speak to you and ask
you what you were doing. I am rather glad I did, because I should not
like to have a tragedy on my hands. Now would you like to come with me as
far as my own rooms, where I shall be in a position to throw a little
light upon a dark place or two?"

Venner and Gurdon clutched eagerly at the suggestion. Without further
words, they passed into the street, and would have walked down the steps
had not Zary detained them.

"One moment," he whispered. "Hang back in the shadow of the portico.
Don't you see that there are two or three men on the steps of the house
next door? Ah, I can catch the tones of that rascal Fenwick. If only that
vile scoundrel knew how close to him I was at the present moment! But let
us listen. Perhaps we may hear something useful."

It was very still and quiet in the Square now, for the hour was late, and
therefore the voices from the portico came clear and distinct to the
listeners' ears.

"What is the good of it?" one of the voices said. "Why on earth can't you
wait till morning? Le Fenu has got clear away, and there isn't much
chance of catching him again in a hurry. It was one of the coolest
things I have seen for a long time."

"Oh, he doesn't lack brains, or pluck either," Fenwick said. "I should
have been proud of a trick like that myself. I ought to have poisoned him
when I had the chance. I ought to have got him out of the way without
delay. But it seemed such a safe thing to kidnap him and hide him in his
own house, where we could go on with our work without the slightest
danger or interruption from those accursed police. And then, when Fate
played into our hands and we got hold of Evors as well, it looked as if
everything was going our way. How you fools ever contrived to let him get
the upper hand of you is more than I can understand."

"It was Jones's fault," another voice growled. "He forgot the drug, and
we ran clean out of it. Then, I suppose, we got interested over a game of
cards, and one way and another, Evors managed to get six or seven hours'
sleep without having any of that stuff inside him. Bless me, if it wasn't
all like a dream, guv'nor. There we were, interested in our cards, and
before we knew where we were our heads were banged together, and I was
lying on the floor thinking that the end of the world had come. That
fellow has got the strength of the very devil itself."

"Poor weak creature," Fenwick sneered.

"Weak-minded, perhaps, and easily led," the first speaker said. "But
there is not much the matter with him when it comes to fists."

"We can't stop chattering here all night," Fenwick cried. "It is all very
well for you men, who don't care so long as you have something to eat and
drink. You would be quite satisfied to sit like a lot of hogs in a sty in
Le Fenu's house, but he'll certainly be back in the morning with some
infernal scheme or other for getting the best of us. Don't you see it is
impossible for me any longer to play the part of a tenant of a furnished
house, now that the owner of the house is at large again? It is a very
fortunate thing, too, in a way, that I can pass all you people off as my
servants. Now get away at once and do as I tell you. As for me, I am
going to take a cab as far as the old place by the side of the river. In
an hour's time I hope to be on my way to Canterbury. Now, you are quite
sure you all know what to do? It's confoundedly awkward to have one's
plans upset like this, but a clever man always has an alternative scheme
on hand, and I've got mine. There, that will do. Be off at once."

"That's all very well, guv'nor," another voice said. "It is easy enough
to put the door on the latch and turn out of the crib, leaving it empty,
but what about the girl in the white dress? I ain't very scrupulous as a
rule, but it seems rather cruel to leave the poor kid behind and she not
more than half right in her head."

"Devil fly away with the girl," Fenwick said passionately. "We can
pick her up at any time we want to. Besides, I think I can see a way
to arrange for her and a method of getting her out of the house within
the next hour. It was no bad thing for men who get their living as we
do when some genius invented motor cars. Now do go along or we shall
never finish."

The little group on the portico steps melted away, and one by one the
slouching figures vanished into the darkness. Zary stepped on to the
pavement, and proceeded to open the front door of the next house. It
yielded to his touch.

"I am glad of this," he said; "and, really, we owe quite a debt of
gratitude to the tender-hearted ruffian who was averse to leaving a poor
girl in this house all alone. We will spare Fenwick the trouble of any
inconvenience so far as she is concerned."

So saying, Zary proceeded to walk up the stairs, turning up the lights as
he went. He called the name of Beth softly three or four times, and
presently a door opened overhead and a girl in a white dress came out. A
pleased smile spread over her face as she looked over the balusters and
noted the caller.

"Felix," she said softly, "is it really you? I have been hiding myself in
my room because I was terrified, and after Charles had gone those men
quarrelled so terribly among themselves! I suppose Charles forgot all
about me in the excitement of the moment."

"Oh, no, he didn't, dear one," Zary said very gently. "He would have
come back to you in any case. But I am going to take you away from this
house where you have been so miserable; I am going to see that you are
not molested in the future."

"That is all very well," Venner interposed, "but where can the young lady
go? She is quite alone and helpless, and unless you have some reputable
female relation--"

"It is not a matter of my relations," Zary smiled. "Miss Beth will go to
one who is her natural protector, and one who will watch over her welfare
with unceasing care. To put it quite plainly, Miss Beth is going to the
Great Empire Hotel, and you are going to take her. To-night she will
sleep under the same roof as her sister."

Venner was just a little startled by the suddenness of the proposal, yet,
on the whole, the suggestion was an exceedingly natural one, for who was
better capable of looking after the unfortunate Beth than her own sister?
True, the hour was exceedingly late; but then a huge place like the Great
Empire Hotel was practically open night and day, and a request at one
o'clock in the morning that a guest in the house should be awakened to
receive another guest would be nothing in the way of a novelty.

"Very well," Venner said. "Let her put on her hat and jacket, and she can
come with me at once."




CHAPTER XVI

FENWICK MOVES AGAIN


Beth raised no objection to the programme; indeed, the suggestion seemed
to fill her with delight. She would not be a moment, she said. She would
put certain necessaries in a handbag, and come back for the rest of her
wardrobe on the morrow. Venner had expressed a desire that Zary should
accompany him, but the latter shook his head emphatically.

"No, no," he said; "you are going alone. As for me, I have important
business on hand which will not brook the slightest delay. Mr. Gurdon had
best return to his own rooms; and, for his own sake, I would advise him
to keep in the middle of the road. You two little know the danger you
incurred when you decided to thrust your head into this hornet's nest.
Now I will see you both off the premises and put out all the lights. I
may mention in passing that I have a latchkey to this place."

A few minutes later Venner found himself walking down the deserted
streets with his fair little companion hanging on his arm. She chattered
to him very prettily and daintily, but there was a great deal in her
remarks which conveyed nothing to him at all. She constantly alluded to
matters of which he was entirely ignorant, apparently taking it for
granted that he was _au fait_ with what she was saying. It struck Venner
that though not exactly mentally deficient, she was suffering from
weakness of intellect, brought about, probably, by some great shock or
terrible sorrow. On the whole, he was not sorry to find himself in the
great hall of the hotel, the lights of which were still burning, and
where several guests were lounging for a final cigar.

"I know it is exceedingly late," Venner said to the clerk, "but it is
quite imperative that this young lady should see Miss Fenwick. Will
you be good enough to send up to her room and tell her how sorry I am
to disturb her at this time of night, but that the matter is
exceedingly urgent?"

"Miss Fenwick is not in, sir," came the startling response. "She went out
shortly after eleven o'clock, and she told me that she might not be back
for some considerable time. You see, she wanted to be quite sure that she
could get back into the hotel at any time she returned. Oh, no doubt she
is returning, or I don't suppose for a moment that she would have asked
me all those questions."

The information was sufficiently disturbing, but there was no help for
it. All they had to do was to sit down and wait patiently till Vera came
back. They were not in the least likely to attract any attention, seeing
that several men in evening dress together with their wives were seated
in the hall for a final chat after the theatre or some party or
reception. In her long white frock, partially concealed by a cloak and
hood, Beth would have easily passed for a girl fresh from a theatre or a
dance. It was a long weary wait of over an hour, and Venner was feeling
distinctly anxious, when the big folding doors at the end of the hall
opened and Vera's tall, graceful figure emerged.

"Here is your sister," Venner said. There was just a stern suggestion in
his voice. "Now, you are not to cry or make any scene, you are not to
attract any attention to yourself, but take it all for granted. You can
be as emotional as you please when you are alone together in your room."

Vera came across the hall in a jaded, weary way, as if she were
thoroughly tired out. Her face flushed a little as she recognised Venner.
Then she looked at his companion and almost paused, while the blood ebbed
from her face, leaving it deadly pale.

"Gerald," she whispered. "Gerald and Beth. What does it mean? What
strange thing has happened to bring you both together here."

"Don't make a scene, for goodness' sake," Venner said. "Take it as calmly
as you can. Unless you are self-possessed, your sister is sure to give
way, and that is the last thing in the world to be desired. I cannot
possibly stop now to tell you all the extraordinary things which have
happened to-night. Let it be sufficient to say that it is absolutely
imperative that you give your sister shelter, and that nobody but
yourself should know where she is."

"But how did you find her?" Vera asked. "And who was it suggested that
you should bring her to me?"

"Let me just mention the name of Zary," Venner replied. "Oh, I can come
round here to-morrow and tell you all about it. If you think that there
is any possible danger--"

"Of course there is danger," Vera said. "Mr. Fenwick may be back at any
moment. He does not know that I am aware that my sister is even alive. If
he became acquainted with the fact that we had come together again, all
my plans would be absolutely ruined, and my three years of self-sacrifice
would be in vain."

"I am afraid you must run the risk now," Venner said. "At any rate, your
sister will have to stay here till the morning. It is perhaps a good
thing that she does not understand what is going on."

Apparently the girl had no real comprehension of all the anxieties and
emotions of which she was unconsciously the centre. She was holding her
sister's hand now and smiling tenderly into her face, like a child who
has found a long-lost friend.

"You may rest assured on one point," Venner went on. "For the present
there is not the slightest reason to fear Fenwick. He has had a great
shock to-night; all his plans have been upset, and he finds himself in a
position of considerable danger. I know for a fact that he is going
straight away to Canterbury, and probably by this time he is on his way
there. According to what your mysterious friend Zary said, he had some
plan cut and dried for providing for your sister's safety to-morrow. Now
take the poor child to bed, for she is half asleep already, and when once
you have made her comfortable I want you to come down again and have a
few words with me. You need not hesitate; surely a man can talk to his
wife whenever he pleases--and, besides, there are several people here who
show not the slightest signs of going to bed yet."

"Very well," Vera said. "Come along, dear, I see you are dreadfully
sleepy--so sleepy that you do not appear to recognise the sister you have
met for the first time for three years."

Venner had time to smoke the best part of a cigar before Vera reappeared.
They took a seat in a secluded corner of the hall, where it was possible
to talk without interruption.

"Now, please, tell me everything," the girl said.

"I am afraid that is impossible," Venner replied. "This is one of the
most extraordinary and complicated businesses that I ever heard of. In
the first place, I came to England, weary and worn out with my search for
you, and half inclined to abandon it altogether. In the very last place
in the world where I expect to meet you, I come In contact with you in
this hotel. I find that you are being passed off as the daughter of one
of the greatest scoundrels who ever cheated the gallows. But that does
not check my faith in you. I had kept my trust in you intact. Ever since
you left me on the day of our marriage I have had nothing but a few words
to explain your amazing conduct; and now here am I doing my best to free
you from the chains that bind you, and all the while you seem to be
struggling to hug those chains about you and to baffle all my efforts.
Why do you do this? What is the secret that you conceal so carefully from
the man who would do anything to save you from trouble, from the man you
profess to love? If you do care for me--"