WAIT! Stop!” he screamed out in a well-simulated paroxysm of terror. “I—I’ll write it.” “I thought so!” said Crang coolly. “Well, go over there to the table then, and sit down.” He turned to the two men. “Beat it!” he snapped —and, the room empty again save for himself and John Bruce, he tapped the sheet of paper with the muzzle of his revolver.By FRANK L. PACKARD38 min
BUD HAWKINS, the Bridgetown Yellow Hope, read this item in the Echo, as he loafed in the steam-heated rotunda of the Mansion House, a smile of derision on his lantern-jawed face. Outside, the street stretched emptily towards sweeping common, mantled in newly-fallen snow.By ARCHIE P. McKISHNIE30 min
IT WAS simply an unusual combination of chance and circumstances which first gave Louie Goldberg the impression that he could beat the game. Louie, having recently become the proud possessor of a five-hundred dollar jumble of cogs and wheels and other like mysteries, which only the radiantly optimistic would have called a motor-car, permitted himself to listen to the wiles of brother-in-law Abie Bernstein.By GUY MORTON28 min
IN THE animal tent old Zeke Fenner—advertised upon blazing circus posters as “Prof. Leonardo de Vachelli”—gazed with melancholy fondness upon “Leo, the Jungle King, the Largest Lion in Captivity.” The splash of rain outside and inside the tent would have depressed the most buoyant of natures.By STANLEY R. HOFFLUND27 min
A GAP of less than a century intervenes be tween the trackless wastes of our far north and the trackless forests and swamps of the old “Western District.” In the early years of the last century, Lambton county was even more a terra incognita than the Mackenzie district is now.By VICTOR LAURISTON23 min
IF CANADA were to-day getting the entire profits from the development of her national resources, she could pay off her war debt of two billions in a year; and without any increase of taxation to the consumer in higher freights or to capital in heavier imposts.By AGNES C. LAUT20 min
I BELIEVE that all the people of Canada, of all shades of political thought, are firmly agreed on one subject that the railway situation, so far as government-owned or controlled roads are concerned is in a position which can only he described as a serious muddle.By FRANK S. CAHILL, M. P.18 min
An extraordinarily successful business man, nationally known to all Canadians one of the clearest thinkers and keenest students of railway problems in the Dominion has expressed for the benefit of readers of MacLean’s his views on the appalling deficit of the Canadian Government Railways and his suggestions for a solution.
THE heavy voice of John Armstrong boomed out into the fantastic shadows beyond the shaded oil lamp’s yellow circle of light. “It's a lie! It’s a lie!” Then in a savage, stabbing whisper even more fearful: “It’s a lie—a damned—black—lie!” Blizzard winds raging round the trading-post seemed to snatch up the hiss of it in a wail of ferocious emphasis and carry it in dying cadences far out and up into the Arctic unknown.By CHARLES C. JENKINS12 min
A PLAINTIVE voice piped up, not so long ago: "Where are the Canadian poets?" And an answering voice, not untouched with cynicism, retorted: "On the train to New York!" But times must have changed. For only last month, in the city of Montreal, I saw more than one hundred honest-to-goodness Canadian poets and authors gather together for the purpose of forming a sort of union of the ink-pot.By ARTHUR STRINGER10 min
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