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       Fred M. White

      The Mystery of the Four Fingers

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066245238

       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

      I. THE BLACK PATCH

      II. THE FIRST FINGER

      III. THE LOST MINE

      IV. IN THE LIFT

      V. A PUZZLE FOR VENNER

      VI. A PARTIAL FAILURE

      VII. THE WHITE LADY

      VIII. MISSING

      IX. A NEW PHASE

      X. THE SECOND FINGER

      XI. AN UNEXPECTED MOVE

      XII. THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR

      XIII. THE WHITE LADY AGAIN

      XIV. MASTER OF THE SITUATION

      XV. FELIX ZARY

      XVI. FENWICK MOVES AGAIN

      XVII. MERTON GRANGE

      XVIII. A COUPLE OF VISITORS

      XIX. PHANTOM GOLD

      XX. THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN

      XXI. THE THIRD FINGER

      XXII. "THE TIME WILL COME"

      XXIII. SMOKED OUT

      XXIV. THE MOUTH OF THE NET

      XXV. AN ACT OF CHARITY

      XXVI. THE LAST FINGER

      XXVII. NEMESIS

      XXVIII. EXPLANATIONS

      XXIX. THIS MORTAL COIL

      XXX. A PEACEFUL SUNSET

      CHAPTER I

       Table of Contents

      THE BLACK PATCH

      Considering it was nearly the height of the London winter season, the Great Empire Hotel was not unusually crowded. This might perhaps have been owing to the fact that two or three of the finest suites of rooms in the building had been engaged by Mark Fenwick, who was popularly supposed to be the last thing in the way of American multi-millionaires. No one knew precisely who Fenwick was, or how he had made his money; but during the last few months his name had bulked largely in the financial Press and the daily periodicals of a sensational character. So far, the man had hardly been seen, it being understood that he was suffering from a chill, contracted on his voyage to Europe. Up to the present moment he had taken all his meals in his rooms, but it was whispered now that the great man was coming down to dinner. There was quite a flutter of excitement in the Venetian dining-room about eight o'clock.

      The beautifully decorated saloon had a sprinkling of well-dressed men and women already dining decorously there. Everything was decorous about the Great Empire Hotel. No thought had been spared in the effort to keep the place quiet and select. The carpets were extra thick, and the waiters more than usually soft-footed. On the whole, it was a restful place, though, perhaps, the decorative scheme of its lighting erred just a trifle on the side of the sombre. Still, flowers and ferns were soft and feathery. The band played just loudly enough to stimulate conversation instead of drowning it. At one of the little tables near the door two men were dining. One had the alertness and vigor which bespeaks the dweller in towns. He was neatly groomed, with just the slight suspicion of the dandy in his dress, though it was obvious at the merest glance that he

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