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Many More Antique Detective Stories

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The Law and the Lady by Wilkie Collins
Where were my thoughts? What had become of my attention? I was too bewildered to know. I started and looked at my new husband. He seemed to be almost as much bewildered as I was. The same thought had, as I believe, occurred to us both at the same moment.

The Secret of the Night by Gaston Leroux
Ermolai bowed and returned to the garden. The "barinia" left the veranda, where she had come for this conversation with the old servant of General Trebassof, her husband, and returned to the dining-room in the datcha des Iles, where the gay Councilor Ivan Petrovitch was regaling his amused associates with his latest exploit at Cubat's resort.

The Shape of Fear by Elia W. Peattie
He fell in with men who talked of art for art's sake, -- though what right they had to speak of art at all nobody knew, -- and little by little his view of life and love became more or less pro- fane. He met a woman who sucked his heart's blood, and he knew it and made no protest; nay, to the great amusement of the fellows who talked of art for art's sake, he went the length of marrying her.

Baron Trigault's Vengeance by Emile Gaboriau
Vengeance! that is the first, the only thought, when a man finds himself victimized, when his honor and fortune, his present and future, are wrecked by a vile conspiracy! The torment he endures under such circumstances can only be alleviated by the prospect of inflicting them a hundredfold upon his persecutors.

The Trailor Murder Mystery by Abraham Lincoln
There resided, at different points in the State of Illinois, three brothers by the name of Trailor. Their Christian names were William, Henry and Archibald. Archibald resided at Springfield, then as now the seat of Government of the State. He was a sober, retiring, and industrious man,

The Trees of Pride by G.K. Chesterton
The woodman was naturally a rougher and even wilder figure than the gardener. His face also was brown, and looked like an antique parchment, and it was framed in an outlandish arrangement of raven beard and whiskers, which was really a fashion fifty years ago, but might have been five thousand years old or older.

The Man Who Was Thursday by G. K. Chesterton
A cloud was on the mind of men, and wailing went the weather, Yea, a sick cloud upon the soul when we were boys together. Science announced nonentity and art admired decay; The world was old and ended: but you and I were gay; Round us in antic order their crippled vices came--

The Campaign Grafter by Arthur B. Reeve
Thus it came about that not very much later in the morning we found ourselves at the campaign headquarters, in the presence of two nervous and high-keyed gentlemen in frock coats and silk hats.

The White Slave by Arthur B. Reeve
Mysterious disappearances, such as that of Georgette Gilbert have alarmed the public and baffled the police before this, disappearances that in their suddenness, apparent lack of purpose and inexplicability, have had much in common with the case of Miss Gilbert.

The Treasure-Train by Arthur B. Reeve
"Yesterday I heard something that has made me think a great deal. You know, we live at the St. Germaine when we are in town. I've noticed for several months past that the lobbies are full of strange, foreign-looking people.

The Dream Doctor by Arthur B. Reeve
"Now, I don't want to file these letters in the waste basket. When people write letters to a newspaper, it means something. I might reply, in this case, that he is as real as science, as real as the fight of society against the criminal. But I want to do more than that."

The Problem of the Steel Door by Arthur B. Reeve
It was what in college we used to call "good football weather" -- a crisp autumn afternoon that sent the blood tingling through the brain and muscle. Kennedy and I were enjoying a stroll on the drive, dividing our attention between the glowing red sunset across the Hudson and the string of homeward-bound automobiles on the broad parkway. Suddenly a huge black touring car marked with big letters, "P. D. N. Y.," shot past.

The Romance of Elaine by Arthur B. Reeve
The car stopped and Elaine, Aunt Tabby and the dog got out. There, waiting for them, was "Uncle" Joshua, as Elaine playfully called him, a former gardener of the Dodges, now a plain, honest countryman on whom the city was fast encroaching, a jolly old fellow, unharmed by the world.

The Invisible Ray by Arthur B. Reeve
Kennedy's client was speaking in a low, full-chested vibrating voice, with some emotion, so low that I had entered the room without being aware that any one was there until it was too late to retreat.

Guy Garrick by Arthur B. Reeve
I was not surprised at reading the name of James McBirney on the detective's card, underneath which was the title of the Automobile Underwriters' Association. But I was more than surprised when the younger of the visitors handed us a card with the simple name, Mortimer Warrington.

The Gold of the Gods by Arthur B. Reeve
"How they got into the South American section of the Museum, though, I don't understand," he hurried on. "But, once in, that they should take the most valuable relic I brought back with me on this last expedition, I think certainly shows that it was a robbery with a deep-laid, premeditated purpose."

The Film Mystery by Arthur B. Reeve
Before us lay the body of the girl, remarkably beautiful even as she lay motionless in death. Her masses of golden hair, disheveled, added to the soft contours of her features.

The Exploits of Elaine by Arthur B. Reeve
The editor paused a moment, then exclaimed, "Why, this fellow seems to take a diabolical -- I might almost say pathological -- pleasure in crimes of violence, revenge, avarice and self-protection. Sometimes it seems as if he delights in the pure deviltry of the thing. It is weird."

The Ear in the Wall by Arthur B. Reeve
Carton laid down a new photograph which the newspapers had not printed yet. Betty Blackwell was slender, petite, chic. Her dark hair was carefully groomed, and there was an air with which she wore her clothes and carried herself, even in a portrait, which showed that she was no ordinary girl.

Constance Dunlap by Arthur B. Reeve
"Carlton Dunlap," she added in a tone that rasped his very soul, "I am nobody's fool. I may not know much about bookkeeping and accounting, but I can add -- and two and two, when the same man but different women compose each two, do not make four, according to my arithmetic, but three, from which,"

The Clairvoyants And Other Stories by Arthur B. Reeve
"There seemed to be a wall," she resumed, "a narrow wall in the way and I couldn't get over it. As often as I tried, I fell. And then I seemed to be pursued by some kind of animal, half bull, half snake. I ran. It followed closely. I seemed to see a crowd of people and I felt that if I could only get to that crowd, somehow I would be safe, perhaps might even get over the wall and -- I woke up -- almost screaming."

The War Terror by Arthur B. Reeve
Startled by my own involuntary exclamation of surprise which followed the vision that shot past me as I opened our door in response to a sudden, sharp series of pushes at the buzzer, Kennedy bounded swiftly toward me, and the girl almost flung herself upon him.

Anna Katharine Green

The Woman in the Alcove by Anna Katharine Green
I was not made for love. This I had often said to myself; very often of late. In figure I am too diminutive, in face far too unbeautiful, for me to cherish expectations of this nature. Indeed, love had never entered into my plan of life

That Affair Next Door by Anna Katharine Green

A Strange Disappearance by Anna Katharine Green

The Old Stone House and Other Stories by Anna Katharine Green

The Mystery of the Hasty Arrow by Anna Katharine Green

The Mill Mystery by Anna Katharine Green

The Millionaire Baby by Anna Katharine Green

The Mayor's Wife by Anna Katharine Green

The Leavenworth Case by Anna Katharine Green

Initials Only by Anna Katharine Green

The House of the Whispering Pines by Anna Katharine Green

The House in the Mist by Anna Katharine Green

The Golden Slipper by Anna Katharine Green

The Filigree Ball by Anna Katharine Green

Dark Hollow by Anna Katharine Green

The Circular Study by Anna Katharine Green

The Chief Legatee by Anna Katharine Green

Agatha Webb by Anna Katharine Green

The Man in Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart
In fact, of all the men of my acquaintance, I was probably the most prosaic, the least adventurous, the one man in a hundred who would be likely to go without a deviation from the normal through the orderly procession of the seasons, summer suits to winter flannels, golf to bridge.

The Lamp That Went Out by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
The little group of servants returned to the courtyard behind the high gates. Muller, whom they had not noticed, was about to resume his walk, when he halted again. The courtyard of the house led back through a flagged walk to the park-like garden that surrounded it on the sides and rear.

The Club of Queer Trades by G.K.Chesterton
A loud rap at the door had cut him short, and, on permission being given, the door was thrown sharply open and a stout, dapper man walked swiftly into the room, set his silk hat with a clap on the table, and said, "Good evening, gentlemen," with a stress on the last syllable that somehow marked him out as a martinet, military, literary and social.

The Bat by Mary Roberts Rinehart and Avery Hopwood
I'll give you carte blanche - but get him!" said a haggard millionaire in the sedate inner offices of the best private detective firm in the country. The man on the other side of the desk, man hunter extraordinary, old servant of Government and State, sleuthhound without a peer, threw up his hands in a gesture of odd hopelessness.

Sight Unseen by Mary Roberts Rinehart
To be frank, I am quite convinced that, even had we known of these so-called explanations, which in reality explain nothing, we would have ignored them as we became involved in the dramatic movement of the revelations and the personal experiences which grew out of them. I confess that following the night after the first seance any observations of mine would have been of no scientific value whatever,

The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart
The old stucco house sat back in a garden, or what must once have been a garden, when that part of the Austrian city had been a royal game preserve. Tradition had it that the Empress Maria Theresa had used the building as a hunting-lodge, and undoubtedly there was something royal in the proportions of the salon.

The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie
"Well, of course the war has turned the hundreds into thousands. No doubt the fellow was very useful to her. But you could have knocked us all down with a feather when, three months ago, she suddenly announced that she and Alfred were engaged! The fellow must be at least twenty years younger than she is! It's simply bare-faced fortune hunting;

The Secret Adversary Agatha Christie
A man's voice beside her made her start and turn. She had noticed the speaker more than once amongst the first-class passengers. There had been a hint of mystery about him which had appealed to her imagination. He spoke to no one. If anyone spoke to him he was quick to rebuff the overture. Also he had a nervous way of looking over his shoulder with a swift, suspicious glance.

Stories of Modern French novels by Julian Hawthorne
This cruel loss, for which he was totally unprepared, threw him into a state of profound melancholy; and some months later, seeking to mitigate his grief by the distractions of travel, he left his domains near Moscow, never intending to return.

Stories by Modern American Authors Edited by Julian Hawthorne
I used to be taken to see my mother every day, and sometimes twice a day, for an hour at a time. Then I sat upon a little stool near her feet, and she would ask me what I had been doing, and what I wanted to do. I dare say she saw already the seeds of a profound melancholy in my nature, for she looked at me always with a sad smile, and kissed me with a sigh when I was taken away.

The Case of the Registered Letter by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
I found my aunt somewhat worried because Miss Roemer had left the house immediately after our early dinner, and had not yet returned. We both knew the girl to be still grieving over her broken engagement, and we dreaded the effect this last dreadful news might have on her.

The Red House Mystery by A. A. Milne
In the drowsy heat of the summer afternoon the Red House was taking its siesta. There was a lazy murmur of bees in the flower-borders, a gentle cooing of pigeons in the tops of the elms. From distant lawns came the whir of a mowing-machine, that most restful of all country sounds; making ease the sweeter in that it is taken while others are working.

The Case of The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
Muller stood on the top of this knoll at a spot where the street divided. Towards the right it led down into a factory suburb; towards the left the road led on to a residence colony, and straight ahead the way was open, between fields, pastures and farms, over moors, to another town of considerable size lying beside a river. Muller knew all this, but his knowledge of the locality was of little avail, for all traces of the carriage wheels were lost.

The Case of The Pool of Blood in the Pastor's Study by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
"Yes, your Grace! As soon as I saw you coming I sent the sexton to the asylum." Then the men went in again into the room which had been the scene of the mysterious crime. The wind rattled the open window and blew out its white curtains. It was already dark in the corners of the room, one could see but indistinctly the carvings of the wainscoting.

The Mystery of Orcival by Emile Gaboriau
Misfortune, which modifies characters, for good or bad, had made him, apparently, a great egotist. He declared that he was only interested in the affairs of life as a critic tired of its active scenes. He loved to make a parade of his profound indifference for everything, swearing that a rain of fire descending upon Paris, would not even make him turn his head.

Other People's Money by Emile Gaboriau
The dwelling was fit for the man; and every thing from the very hall, betrayed his peculiarities. There, evidently, every piece of furniture must have its invariable place, every object its irrevocable shelf or hook. All around were evidences, if not exactly of poverty, at least of small means,

No Name by Wilkie Collins
Mr. Vanstone showed his character on the surface of him freely to all men. An easy, hearty, handsome, good-humored gentleman, who walked on the sunny side of the way of life, and who asked nothing better than to meet all his fellow-passengers in this world on the sunny side, too. Estimating him by years, he had turned fifty.

The Old Sleuth Series

The Dock Rats of New York by Harlan Page Halsey

Oscar the Detective by Harlan Page Halsey

Cad Metti, the Female Detective Strategist by Harlan Page Halsey

A Desperate Chance: or, The Wizard Tramp's Revelation by Harlan Page Halsey

John Thorndyke's Cases by R. Austin Freeman

The Vanishing Man by R. Austin Freeman

The Uttermost Farthing by R. Austin Freeman

The Red Thumb Mark by R. Austin Freeman

The Mystery of 31 New Inn by R. Austin Freeman

The Singing Bone by R. Austin Freeman

The Mysterious Visitor by R. Austin Freeman

A Mystery Of The Sand-Hills by R. Austin Freeman

The Eye of Osiris by R. Austin Freeman

For The Defence, Dr. Thorndyke by R. Austin Freeman

A Silent Witness by R. Austin Freeman

A Certain Dr Thorndyke by R. Austin Freeman

Felo de Se? by R. Austin Freeman

Mr Polton Explains by R. Austin Freeman

Pontifex, Son And Thorndyke by R. Austin Freeman

Dr Thorndyke Short Story Omnibus by R. Austin Freeman

Want Other Detective Stories ?

Politics is a Bomb

The goal of our lives is to be of service.
I would like to suggest that to serve is much 
improved by avoiding politics. 

I do not mean that we should not vote but that
we should avoid arguments for one party or another. 

Keep your eyes on the object of your studies.
Make friends with your colleagues and share the
fruits of your experiments with each other.
Talk of those things that create a feeling of 
unity in the room. Withhold your arguement
if you know that trouble will result.

Teach each other that man can discuss in good faith
that the problems that face us in our lives and our 
work are solvable. Love is a strong word but it is 
the very centre of our work and our goal. It is the 
motive force that drives us to do our best, when there 
are pressures to take shortcuts.

When all is said and done, what have we gained if we
prove our point right but alienate our friends. 
Kindness and love will bring out the good in most. 
There will always be a few that oppose us and our 
goals.

For Visually Impaired see

For More Detectives see Crime and Mystery

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Copyright © MMI -- MMVIII
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