: Edgar Wallace
: Saif El-Dein Ahmed
: Clarence Private
: Al-Mashreq eBookstore
: 9787476613866
: 1
: CHF 5.60
:
: Science Fiction, Fantasy
: English
: 250
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
Dive into the gripping world of espionage and mystery with Edgar Wallace's 'Clarence Private,' a tale of cunning intelligence, daring exploits, and unpredictable twists that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Follow the enigmatic Clarence as he navigates through dangerous missions, hidden secrets, and a web of intrigue that threatens to unravel at any moment. This is a must-read for fans of suspenseful thrillers and masterful storytelling!

Edgar Wallace (1875-1932) was a prolific British writer, journalist, and playwright, best known for his crime thrillers and mysteries. Born in London, Wallace had a challenging childhood, eventually joining the army and later working as a war correspondent. He gained fame for his fast-paced, gripping novels, often centered around police investigations and criminal masterminds. Wallace's most famous creation is 'The Four Just Men,' and he is also credited with contributing to the original script of the classic film 'King Kong.' Over his lifetime, he wrote more than 170 novels, 18 stage plays, and numerous short stories. Wallace's works were hugely popular in the early 20th century, and his storytelling continues to influence the crime genre today.

I. — THE BIRTH OF THE SHARPSHOOTERS


First published in The Novel Magazine, Dec 1914

In this fine series of complete short stories, Mr. Edgar Wallace, the world-famous war correspondent and author, relates the adventures of one, Clarence, who joins the Army as a Private.

FATE played a low trick on a very bright boy when it named the younger son of Colonel Cassidy of the 184th (Winchester Regiment)"Clarence."

The horrid thing was that he looked"Clarence." He was a dear little boy whom, in his earlier youth, people persistently called a dear little girl. He had big solemn blue eyes and hair of ruddy gold. It was nevertheless the fact that, for all his angelic attributes, he had, when annoyed, a trick of saying things which made his victims' hair stand on end, though he was seldom rude and never vulgar. For this reason they christened him in the home circle"Clarence-with-the-awful-tongue."

At school they called him Mary Ann for just as long as it took to lick the school from Branger Major to"Moses" Flackery, for Clarence, despite his outward beauty, was bloody-minded, and had a left hook to the jaw that brought tears to your eyes. But amongst his own kin Mary Ann he remained, and Mary Ann he was to the end of his days.

At twenty he should have been in the Army—his father's last act in this life was to put the boy's name down for a regiment of the Guards—but somehow Sandhurst and he did not agree. He could box, run, swim, row and shoot. He played footer excellently and made forty-seven for Harrow one never-to-be-forgotten day at Lords. If proficiency in sport could qualify a man for a commission, Clarence would have had it, but for reasons best known to (a) the authorities, (b) his tutor, (c) Clarence, he was badly ploughed.

"Dear old fellow," he protested to George, the elder brother, and a major of Rifles,"why the deuce do I want to lumber my head with trigi-thingumy and that sort of rot? I couldn't do it at Harrow, dear old chap, and I can't do it at Sandhurst."

"Mary Ann," said the Major severely,"you're an ass." But for all his severity he said this in some fear, for he shared with the family a wholesome respect for the vocabulary of his youngest brother.

"I dare say, I dare say," admitted Clarence with his most angelic smile,"the fool of the family, dear sir and brother, somebody's got to be it. If they want a r