MR. J. G. REEDER SERIES: 5 Mystery Novels & 4 Detective Stories. Edgar Wallace. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Edgar Wallace
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9788027201563
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       Edgar Wallace

      Mr. J. G. Reeder Collection: 5 Mystery Novels & 4 Detective Stories

      Room 13, The Mind of Mr. J. G. Reeder, Terror Keep, Red Aces, Kennedy the Con Man...

      Published by

      Books

      - Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -

       [email protected]

      2017 OK Publishing

      ISBN 978-80-272-0156-3

      Table of Contents

       Room 13 (1924)

       The Mind of Mr. J. G. Reeder (1925)

       Terror Keep (1927)

       Red Aces (1929)

       The Guv’nor and Other Short Stories (1932)

      Room 13 (1924)

       Table of Contents

       Chapter I

       Chapter II

       Chapter III

       Chapter IV

       Chapter V

       Chapter VI

       Chapter VII

       Chapter VIII

       Chapter IX

       Chapter X

       Chapter XI

       Chapter XII

       Chapter XIII

       Chapter XIV

       Chapter XV

       Chapter XVI

       Chapter XVII

       Chapter XVIII

       Chapter XIX

       Chapter XX

       Chapter XXI

       Chapter XXII

       Chapter XXIII

       Chapter XXIV

       Chapter XXV

       Chapter XXVI

       Chapter XXVII

       Chapter XXVIII

       Chapter XXIX

       Chapter XXX

       Chapter XXXI

       Chapter XXXII

       Chapter XXXIII

      Chapter I

       Table of Contents

      Over the grim stone archway was carved the words:

      PARCERE SUBJECTIS

       In cold weather, and employing the argot of his companions Johnny Gray translated this as “Parky Subjects” – it certainly had no significance as “Spare the Vanquished” for he had been neither vanquished nor spared.

      Day by day, harnessed to the shafts, he and Lal Morgon had pulled a heavy handcart up the steep slope, and day by day had watched absently the red-bearded gate-warder put his key in the big polished lock and snap open the gates. And then the little party had passed through, an armed warder leading, an armed warder behind, and the gate had closed.

      And at four o’clock he had walked back under the archway and waited whilst the gate was unlocked and the handcart admitted.

      Every building was hideously familiar. The gaunt “halls,” pitch painted against the Dartmoor storms, the low-roofed office, the gas house, the big, barnlike laundry, the ancient bakery, the exercise yard with its broken asphalt, the ugly church, garishly decorated, the long, scrubbed benches with the raised seats for the warders… and the graveyard where the happily released lifers rested from their labours.

      One morning in spring, he went out of the gate with a working-party. They were building a shed, and he had taken the style and responsibility of bricklayer’s labourer. He liked the work because you can talk more freely on a job like that, and he wanted to hear all that Lal Morgon had to say about the Big Printer.

      “Not so much talking to-day,” said the warder