Sinclair Gluck

Summary

Sinclair Gluck The house of the missing (1922)

As before, we halted, listening, at the foot of the stairs which led up to the next floor. It was well after midnight by now and the street outside, and indeed the whole city, had grown quiet, but in spite of the stillness we could hear no sound from above.
“Come on, sor,” whispered Larry, and hand in hand we crept up the thickly carpeted stairs, keeping close to the wall where the steps were less likely to creak. And as we advanced the black darkness that was the upper hall seemed to creep down and envelop us like an intangible cloud.
Source: Gutenberg

Sinclair Gluck The house of the missing (1922)

In the dim-lit room crouched a Chinaman, his yellow, snarling face upturned and his hand flung back with a knife glinting in it, then the darting flames of two shots from a corner just within the door seemed to transfix him. And as I watched, the yellow face stiffened into a ghastly grin, the knife fell to the floor and the huddled figure slowly collapsed, as one of our men stepped out into the hall again, methodically reloading his gun. The Chief’s forces were all picked men, and they gave a wonderful exhibition of fearless determination and devotion to duty that night.
Source: Gutenberg

Sinclair Gluck The house of the missing (1922)

Fawcette had been one of the last people to see Margaret.
She smiled into my eyes then, a strange, elusive smile that was yet vaguely repellent. “You are pleased to be facetious,” she said.
“Indeed, no. Of all interests a human interest is the keenest. And when that interest is beautiful——” I sighed.
I felt her hand touch mine for a fleeting instant. “Come,” she answered, “you must not flirt with me on such short acquaintance!”
Source: Gutenberg

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