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The Lions of the Lord A Tale of the Old West By Harry Leon Wilson
eBook (ePub): $3.00
Excerpt To his dismay, he saw no one. He peered in bewilderment to the farther side of the room, where light struggled dimly in at the sides of a curtained window. There was no sound, and yet he... More > could acutely feel that presence; insistently his nerves tingled the warning of another's nearness. Leaning forward, still peering to sound the dim corners of the room, he called out again. Then, from behind the door he had opened, a staggering blow was dealt him, and, before he could recover, or had done more than blindly crook one arm protectingly before his face, he was borne heavily to the floor, writhing in a grasp that centered all its crushing power about his throat.< Less
The Seeker By Harry Leon Wilson
eBook (ePub): $3.00
Excerpt: From the other side of the log partition his captor had declared himself to be the keeper of hell. Even now he could hear the words maundered through the chinks: "Never got another drop... More > of water for a million years and still more, and him a burning up and a roasting up, and his tongue a lolling out, all of a sizzle. Now wasn't that fine--because folks said he'd likely gone crazy about religion!"< Less
Ma Pettengill By Harry Leon Wilson
eBook (ePub): $3.00
Harry Leon Wilson (1867-1929 or 28) was the American writer who wrote The Spenders (1902), The Boss of Little Arcady (1905), Bunker Bean (1913), Somewhere in Red Gap (1916), Ma Pettengill (1919), The... More > Wrong Twin (1921) and Merton of the Movies (1922). "From the Arrowhead corrals I strolled up the poplarbordered lane that leads past the bunk house to the castle of the ranch's chatelaine. It was a still Sunday afternoon-the placid interlude, on a day of rest, between the chores of the morning and those of evening. But the calm was for the ear alone. To the eye certain activities, silent but swift, were under way. On the shaded side piazza of the ranch house I could discern my hostess, Mrs. Lysander John Pettengill; she sat erect, even in a rocking-chair, and knitted. On the kitchen steps, full in the westering sun, sat the Chinese chef of the Arrowhead, and knitted-a yellow, smoothly running automaton."< Less
Somewhere in Red Gap By Harry Leon Wilson
eBook (ePub): $3.00
"From the opening chapter 'The Red Splash of Romance,' to the closing one, there is scarcely a paragraph without a laugh."--The Brooklyn Eagle.
Bunker Bean By Harry Leon Wilson
eBook (ePub): $3.00
Excerpt: He voiced a wish to exchange this for sweets with a certain madman in the village who had no understanding of the value of his stock. His mother demurred; not alone because candy was... More > unwholesome, but because the only right thing to do with money was to "save" it. And his mother prevailed, even though his father coarsely suggested that all the candy he could ever buy with Bunker money wouldn't hurt him none. The mother said that this was "low," and the father retorted with equal lowness that a rigid saving of all Bunker-given money wouldn't make no one a "Croosus," neither, if you come down to that.< Less
Ewing's Lady By Harry Leon Wilson
eBook (ePub): $3.00
Excerpt: CHAPTER VI THE LADY AND THE PLAN THEY were chatting the next morning over the late breakfast of Mrs. Laithe. Her brother, summoned from the branding pen, where tender and terrified calves... More > were being marked for life, had come reluctantly, ill disposed to forego the vivacity of that scene. He had rushed in with the look of a man harassed by large affairs. His evil beard was still unshorn, his dress as untidy as care could make it. He drew a chair up to the oilcloth covered table and surveyed the meager fare of his sister with high disapproval. "What you need is food, Nell," he began abruptly. "Look at me.< Less
The Spenders A Tale of the Third Generation By Harry Leon Wilson
eBook (ePub): $3.00
Excerpt: The sun beat hotly upon him as it had on other days through all the hard years when certainty, after all, was nothing more than a temperamental faith. All day he climbed and searched... More > methodically, stopping at noon to eat with an appetite unaffected by his prospect. At sunset he would have stopped for the day, camping on the spot. He looked above to estimate the ground he could cover on the morrow. Almost in front of him, a few yards up the mountainside, he looked squarely at the mother of his float: a huge boulder of projecting silicate. It was there. During the following week he ascertained the dimensions of his vein of silver ore, and located two claims. He named them "The Stars and Stripes" and "The American Boy," paying thereby what he considered tributes, equally deserved, to his native land and to his only son, Daniel, in whom were centred his fondest hopes.< Less

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