Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman

By E. W. Hornung

Release : 2011-02-01

Genre : Mystery Short Stories, Books, Mysteries & Thrillers

Kind : ebook

(0 ratings)
Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman

Raffles is, in many ways, a deliberate inversion of Sherlock Holmes: he is a 'gentleman thief,' living at a very upscale address in London, playing cricket for the Gentlemen of England and supporting himself by carrying out ingenious burglaries. 

He is called the 'Amateur Cracksman,' and differentiates between himself and the 'professors' -- professional criminals from the lower classes.

EXCERPT

Well, I daresay I did so with some freedom, for this plan of his was not the less distasteful to me from its apparent inevitability. I must own, however, that it possessed fewer terrors before my glass was empty. Meanwhile Raffles rejoined me, with a covert coat over his blazer, and a soft felt hat set carelessly on the curly head he shook with a smile as I passed him the decanter.
"When we come back," said he. "Work first, play afterward. Do you see what day it is?" he added, tearing a leaflet from a Shakespearian calendar, as I drained my glass. "March 15th. 'The Ides of March, the Ides of March, remember.' Eh, Bunny, my boy? You won't forget them, will you?" And, with a laugh, he threw some coals on the fire before turning down the gas like a careful householder. So we went out together as the clock on the chimney-piece was striking two.

Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman

By E. W. Hornung

Release : 2011-02-01

Genre : Mystery Short Stories, Books, Mysteries & Thrillers

Kind : ebook

(0 ratings)
Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman

Raffles is, in many ways, a deliberate inversion of Sherlock Holmes: he is a 'gentleman thief,' living at a very upscale address in London, playing cricket for the Gentlemen of England and supporting himself by carrying out ingenious burglaries. 

He is called the 'Amateur Cracksman,' and differentiates between himself and the 'professors' -- professional criminals from the lower classes.

EXCERPT

Well, I daresay I did so with some freedom, for this plan of his was not the less distasteful to me from its apparent inevitability. I must own, however, that it possessed fewer terrors before my glass was empty. Meanwhile Raffles rejoined me, with a covert coat over his blazer, and a soft felt hat set carelessly on the curly head he shook with a smile as I passed him the decanter.
"When we come back," said he. "Work first, play afterward. Do you see what day it is?" he added, tearing a leaflet from a Shakespearian calendar, as I drained my glass. "March 15th. 'The Ides of March, the Ides of March, remember.' Eh, Bunny, my boy? You won't forget them, will you?" And, with a laugh, he threw some coals on the fire before turning down the gas like a careful householder. So we went out together as the clock on the chimney-piece was striking two.

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