fiSlKsJ 
Hl|51 l<aiS^ |51[iT 
Tfne'Cljtlstinsip 
115| R5£g^ [51 jl ■> J) 
TWO THRILLING DETECTIVE STORIES 
The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu Cleek, the Man of the Forty Faces 
By SAX ROHMER 
A succession of thrilling incidents in which Nayland Smith, 
detective, runs down and brings to bay the crafty Fu-Manchu, 
super-criminal. Its pages pulse with excitement that carries 
the reader swiftly along. A striking revelation of detective 
methods in dealing with the strangest criminal system ever 
devised, and the most dramatic mystery story of the decade. 
“Nayland Smith .... an improved Sherlock Holmes. 
He is fully the peer of his predecessor .” — Salt Lake Tribune. 
$1.25 net; postage 12 cents. 
By T. E. HANSHEW 
Cleek begins as a criminal and, luckily for society, turns 
detective. His marvelous cunning, combined with the power 
of facial disguise, makes him irresistible both as a minion 
of the law and as a provider of fascinating material for 
novel readers. His adventures are thrilling and absorbing, and 
the book ranks high in the realm of detective fiction. 
$1.25 net; postage 12 cents. 
Union Square, New York City 
McBRIDE, NAST & CO., Publishers, 
The House Beautiful is especially designed to meet the needs 
of every man and every woman who is interested in a home - in 
its selection, building, upkeep and administration, in its surroundings, 
its practical details, the beauty of its decoration, and spirit of the 
life in it. 
It is a helpful magazine 
It is an interesting magazine 
It is a beautiful magazine 
It helps you with details of home management and economies. 
It interests you in what others are doing to work out your problems. 
It pleases you with the beauty of j"... d'Z ."."."" i 
its richly illustrated pages. j ™^ < & 1 York, n. y. 
= Gentlemen: 
SEND THIS COUPON TODAY E Send me The House Beautiful for 4 months beginning E 
E Yours very truly, E 
4 months for 50 cents = = 
: Name . . . : 
= Address.*‘H” : 
(Regular price $3.00 a Year) E|,,,,||.... 
and most perfect stood in front of the 
silent harp. Other clumps were at the 
windows, peeping through at the swiftly 
darkening day. 
Smilax and valley-lilies wreathed the 
portrait, and single bride roses Hanked the 
orchids in front of it. All white for her, 
whose life and soul had been so white — - 
this was Nancy's thought. Open windows 
would keep the room so cool the flowers 
would be fresh when Jack came—it was 
little more than a night’s run from Chi¬ 
cago. The flowers had not come thence, 
but from a nearer city, so were still like 
blossoms from your own garden. 
"My! But it looks and smells like a 
wedding," Anna Walton said gaily as she 
placed the last vase of carnations. The 
violets were to be kept for breast-knots— 
they were already shaped and bound for 
such use. Gardenias must be turned into 
boutonnieres for the twelve good men and 
true due at the Christmas dinner. This 
counting Jack — Nancy’s heart fluttered 
happily when she let herself think his 
name. He need never have waited — -mak¬ 
ing good made no difference to her, nor to 
William. But underneath came a sense of 
what it meant to Jack himself. If only he 
would stay — again she looked at Mary, 
trying to read her face. She was surely 
in great spirits. Her silver basket running 
over with delicate purples, did surely show 
well against the white and gold. She 
stood holding it in both hands, her head 
the least bit aside, saying: “These belong 
on that little ebony stand, there, beyond 
the harp, but somehow I don't want to 
part with them.” 
"Then, you shan’t do it. We'll put them 
at your elbow out in the hall,” Nancy said 
heartily. Mary sighed happily, making as 
though to kiss the purple velvet bloom, but 
restraining herself. “If you do,” she said, 
shaking her head at Nancy, “you'll be the 
cause of my downfall—I shall just have 
to chuck violets, and steal a breast-knot of 
these: because, you see, I've got a silver- 
purple frock to wear at dinner to-morrow.” 
“Wear all of them if you like,” Nancy 
assented. Anna called from the door: 
“Better run — you two, folks are coming in 
loads — a car and two carriagefuls have 
just passed the post office—Yes—Neddy 
May phoned word of them. I gave him 
orders as we came by.” 
“I hope everybody will be here by dark,” 
the Major said, “for something else is 
coming — a cold rain, I’m afraid.” 
Rain began it, but changed in a whiff to 
sleet, which in another whiff was heavy 
snow. It fell so fast, so thickly, the latest 
of the guests had much ado to drive a run¬ 
about through it. But by eight o'clock, 
when all sat down to supper, everything 
was forgotten save Christmas — the feel of 
it was heightened by the white whirl out¬ 
side. 
There had been talk of playing the old 
ring games of the countryside, but all 
were too tired to do more after supper 
than sit at gossip, and listen to snatches 
of late successes rendered by the music 
In writing to advertisers please mention House & Garden. 
(414) 
