Books with author William Murray

An excerpt:When Jack Chetwynd dropped into the Bundar Cafe at Delhi one scorching afternoon in September of last year and informed me that we were ordered off to the Punjaub, I could have shouted for joy. I did not do it, though, for I well knew how scornfully Jack would regard any such demonstration. I merely nodded my head, lazily, and went on reading the Post with as much calmness as if such news was a mere every day affair."Yes, my boy," went on Jack, dropping into a chair and ordering a lemon squash, "we are going to have some fun. You know those rascally Pathans killed two or three of our fellows near the frontier station at Oghi some time ago, so an expedition is going up to give them a drubbing for it. It's a deuce of a country, they say, that Black Mountain region, and these Pathans are terrible fellows, too; fight like tigers. Plenty of chance for glory there, Charlie; so prepare yourself!"Jack stopped for breath, and buried his mustache in the icy goblet.

An excerpt:When Jack Chetwynd dropped into the Bundar Cafe at Delhi one scorching afternoon in September of last year and informed me that we were ordered off to the Punjaub, I could have shouted for joy. I did not do it, though, for I well knew how scornfully Jack would regard any such demonstration. I merely nodded my head, lazily, and went on reading the Post with as much calmness as if such news was a mere every day affair."Yes, my boy," went on Jack, dropping into a chair and ordering a lemon squash, "we are going to have some fun. You know those rascally Pathans killed two or three of our fellows near the frontier station at Oghi some time ago, so an expedition is going up to give them a drubbing for it. It's a deuce of a country, they say, that Black Mountain region, and these Pathans are terrible fellows, too; fight like tigers. Plenty of chance for glory there, Charlie; so prepare yourself!"Jack stopped for breath, and buried his mustache in the icy goblet.

An excerpt:When Jack Chetwynd dropped into the Bundar Cafe at Delhi one scorching afternoon in September of last year and informed me that we were ordered off to the Punjaub, I could have shouted for joy. I did not do it, though, for I well knew how scornfully Jack would regard any such demonstration. I merely nodded my head, lazily, and went on reading the Post with as much calmness as if such news was a mere every day affair."Yes, my boy," went on Jack, dropping into a chair and ordering a lemon squash, "we are going to have some fun. You know those rascally Pathans killed two or three of our fellows near the frontier station at Oghi some time ago, so an expedition is going up to give them a drubbing for it. It's a deuce of a country, they say, that Black Mountain region, and these Pathans are terrible fellows, too; fight like tigers. Plenty of chance for glory there, Charlie; so prepare yourself!"Jack stopped for breath, and buried his mustache in the icy goblet.

An excerpt:When Jack Chetwynd dropped into the Bundar Cafe at Delhi one scorching afternoon in September of last year and informed me that we were ordered off to the Punjaub, I could have shouted for joy. I did not do it, though, for I well knew how scornfully Jack would regard any such demonstration. I merely nodded my head, lazily, and went on reading the Post with as much calmness as if such news was a mere every day affair."Yes, my boy," went on Jack, dropping into a chair and ordering a lemon squash, "we are going to have some fun. You know those rascally Pathans killed two or three of our fellows near the frontier station at Oghi some time ago, so an expedition is going up to give them a drubbing for it. It's a deuce of a country, they say, that Black Mountain region, and these Pathans are terrible fellows, too; fight like tigers. Plenty of chance for glory there, Charlie; so prepare yourself!"Jack stopped for breath, and buried his mustache in the icy goblet.

An excerpt:When Jack Chetwynd dropped into the Bundar Cafe at Delhi one scorching afternoon in September of last year and informed me that we were ordered off to the Punjaub, I could have shouted for joy. I did not do it, though, for I well knew how scornfully Jack would regard any such demonstration. I merely nodded my head, lazily, and went on reading the Post with as much calmness as if such news was a mere every day affair."Yes, my boy," went on Jack, dropping into a chair and ordering a lemon squash, "we are going to have some fun. You know those rascally Pathans killed two or three of our fellows near the frontier station at Oghi some time ago, so an expedition is going up to give them a drubbing for it. It's a deuce of a country, they say, that Black Mountain region, and these Pathans are terrible fellows, too; fight like tigers. Plenty of chance for glory there, Charlie; so prepare yourself!"Jack stopped for breath, and buried his mustache in the icy goblet.

An excerpt:When Jack Chetwynd dropped into the Bundar Cafe at Delhi one scorching afternoon in September of last year and informed me that we were ordered off to the Punjaub, I could have shouted for joy. I did not do it, though, for I well knew how scornfully Jack would regard any such demonstration. I merely nodded my head, lazily, and went on reading the Post with as much calmness as if such news was a mere every day affair."Yes, my boy," went on Jack, dropping into a chair and ordering a lemon squash, "we are going to have some fun. You know those rascally Pathans killed two or three of our fellows near the frontier station at Oghi some time ago, so an expedition is going up to give them a drubbing for it. It's a deuce of a country, they say, that Black Mountain region, and these Pathans are terrible fellows, too; fight like tigers. Plenty of chance for glory there, Charlie; so prepare yourself!"Jack stopped for breath, and buried his mustache in the icy goblet.

An excerpt:"Good-evening, colonel. You have just come from Meerut, I believe?""Ah, how are you, Fanshawe? Glad to see you--yes, I arrived only a few moments ago; was detained by very important business.""Yes, I know. That's what I wanted to ask you about. I have been in Delhi for the past two days. What did you do with the eighty-five of the light infantry who refused to accept their cartridges a day or two ago?""The unruly dogs were tried this morning," replied the colonel; "all were found guilty and sentenced to terms of imprisonment ranging from three to ten years. Their fate will prove a timely warning to other mutinous fellows--if, indeed, there are any, which I doubt."

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An excerpt:It was late on the afternoon of the last day of the year. The weather was clear and cold. The day before, rain had followed a heavy snowfall, and now, as the final glimmer of the sun shone on the winding road that led from the summit of Knob Hill to the village of Mehoopany, the scene was dazzling and blinding to the eyes.The crusted roads and fields flashed back the rosy light, and the branches of pine and spruce trees, borne downward by their weight of clinging snow, gleamed like burnished metal.On the south slope of Knob Hill, just off the road, stood the little brick schoolhouse. On opposite sides of the covered porch, with hands deep in their pockets and coats buttoned close to their chins, sat Toke Forster and his friend Curt Blake.

An excerpt:Digby Tryon, shipping merchant, of New York, had departed this life suddenly. So the newspapers, with eloquent expressions of regret for the city's loss, had informed the public on the morning previous to that which witnesses the commencement of this narrative. For the benefit of such as did not read the news, a streamer of crape fluttered from the business office down on Whitehall Slip--an office that still displayed on its front the weather-beaten sign-board of "Tryon & Tryon," a relic of the days when father and son were active partners in the firm.There was crape also on the door of the merchant's residence in Pearl Street. A stately old house it was, long standing, and with tales to tell of hospitality shown alike to British officers and American patriots, had its thick walls been able to speak. It was built of yellow Holland brick, with five windows in front, and a double pitched roof covered with tiles. In the rear was a garden, full of trees and shrubbery, that had once extended clear down to the river. But stop!--the reader must bear in mind that I am writing of the year 1793, more than a century ago. At that time New York was a very tiny and quiet city as compared with its present grandeur, and then Pearl Street stood for pretty much what Fifth Avenue is to-day--the home of the town's leading citizens.

An excerpt:"He is not here yet?"The boy spoke quickly, more in a tone of surprise than interrogation, as he sat up in bed and blinked at the window curtains of plaited bamboo, through which a fugitive ray of sunlight shone on carved panels, stools of terra cotta, and a few rare porcelains and bronzes of the Ming dynasty. Twice before he had wakened abruptly from slumber to ask the same question, and again the answer was the same."Not yet, honored young master," replied the elderly, benevolent-faced Chinaman who was the other occupant of the room. "But he will surely come. The journey is long, and many things may have delayed him.""This is the day --""And the end is not until the darkness falls. Rest in peace, my son, so that you may be refreshed and strengthened when the messenger arrives."

An excerpt:Eleven o'clock at night in Cincinnati. The April day had been mild and balmy, and the evening was like it. The theatres had just turned out their audiences, and the streets were gay with pleasure-seekers. Saloons, cafes and hotels shed the brilliance of noonday on the pavements from their flaring windows and lamps. Cabs rattled up and down under the electric lights.A burly policeman, idly swinging his club, was pacing slowly through a dark alley that lay in the rear of one of the main streets. As he reached the entrance to a small, paved court, he was arrested by shrill cries and the tinkle of broken glass. The sounds came from a lighted window that opened on the rear of the court, six feet above the ground. The next instant sash and blind were thrown up, and two lads dropped nimbly into the court. Favored by the darkness, they slipped by the officer, and gaining the alley, shot off at full speed.The indignant guardian of the law shouted lustily and gave chase, but a protruding cobblestone brought him full length to the pavement. By the time he had gathered himself up, his club, his helmet and a leather-cased pocket flask, pursuit was out of the question.