Ghostwriting Excerpt

The 4:15 from Front Royal to Huntley had been held up at Low Water Bridge in

consequence of a derailment. John Jackson was fortunate enough

to catch a belated connection to Huntley, but the next train (which was

the sole communication between the little town and the outside world) had

gone.

"If you can wait half an hour," said the train conductor, "I

will call and get Briggs to come down for you."

John looked out upon the dripping landscape and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll walk," he said shortly.

He stepped forth resolutely into the rain to negotiate the two miles which

separated the town of Huntly and the slightly bigger town of Front Royal.

The downpour was incessant and likely to last through the night.

The high hedges on either side of the narrow road were leafy

cascades; the road itself was in places ankle deep in mud. He stopped

under the protecting cover of a big tree to fill and light his pipe and

with its bowl turned downwards continued his walk. But for the

driving rain, which searched every crevice and found every chink in his

waterproof armor, he preferred, indeed welcomed, the walk.

The road from Huntley to Front Royal was associated in his mind

with some of the finest situations in his novels. It was on this road

that he had conceived "The Element Mystery." Between the station and the

house he had woven the plot which had made "Spencer Sterling" the most

popular detective story of the year. For John Jackson was a maker of

cunning plots.

If, in the literary world, he was regarded by superior persons as a

writer of "shockers," he had a large and increasing public who were

fascinated by the wholesome and thrilling stories he wrote, and who

held on breathlessly to the skein of mystery until they came to the

denouement he had planned.