The Thirty-Nine Steps

By John Buchan

Set just before the onset of the First World War, The Thirty-Nine Steps introduces one of literature’s most memorable detectives, Richard Hannay, an expatriate Scot who has just returned to London from South Africa. Four days after hearing of an assassination plot and plans to steal Britain’s military strategies, Hannay’s informant is found dead in his apartment. Forced to flee from both the murderers and the police, Hannay must use his wits to stay ahead of his pursuers and warn the government before it is too late.

One of the most popular adventure stories ever written, The Thirty-Nine Steps is regarded as the starting point for espionage fiction and established John Buchan as the original thriller writer. The Thirty-Nine Steps, the first book in the Richard Hannay series, inspired many others novelists and filmmakers including Alfred Hitchcock who directed the first of four film adaptations of the novel.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Oct 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781443420495

John Buchan

John Buchan was a Scottish diplomat, barrister, journalist, historian, poet and novelist. He published nearly 30 novels and seven collections of short stories. He was born in Perth, an eldest son, and studied at Glasgow and Oxford. In 1901 he became a barrister of the Middle Temple and a private secretary to the High Commissioner for South Africa. In 1907 he married Susan Charlotte Grosvenor and they subsequently had four children. After spells as a war correspondent, Lloyd George's Director of Information and Conservative MP, Buchan moved to Canada in 1935. He served as Governor General there until his death in 1940. Hew Strachan is Chichele Professor of the History of War at the University of Oxford; his research interests include military history from the 18th century to date, including contemporary strategic studies, but with particular interest in the First World War and in the history of the British Army.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Man Who Died

I returned from the City about three o’clock on that May afternoon pretty well disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old Country, and was fed up with it. If anyone had told me a year ago that I would have been feeling like that I should have laughed at him; but there was the fact. The weather made me liverish, the talk of the ordinary Englishman made me sick, I couldn’t get enough exercise, and the amusements of London seemed as flat as soda water that has been standing in the sun. ‘Richard Hannay,’ I kept telling myself, ‘you have got into the wrong ditch, my friend, and you had better climb out.’

It made me bite my lips to think of the plans I had been building up those last years in Bulawayo. I had got my pile—not one of the big ones, but good enough for me; and I had figured out all kinds of ways of enjoying myself. My father had brought me out from Scotland at the age of six, and I had never been home since; so England was a sort of Arabian Nights to me, and I counted on stopping there for the rest of my days.

But from the first I was disappointed with it. In about a week I was tired of seeing sights, and in less than a month I had had enough of restaurants and theatres and race-meetings. I had no real pal to go about with, which probably explains things. Plenty of people invited me to their houses, but they didn’t seem much interested in me. They would fling me a question or two about South Africa, and then get on their own affairs. A lot of Imperialist ladies asked me to tea to meet schoolmasters from New Zealand and editors from Vancouver, and that was the dismalest business of all. Here was I, thirty-seven years old, sound in wind and limb, with enough money to have a good time, yawning my head off all day. I had just about settled to clear out and get back to the veld, for I was the best bored man in the United Kingdom.

That afternoon I had been worrying my brokers about investments to give my mind something to work on, and on my way home I turned into my club—rather a pot-house, which took in colonial members. I had a long drink, and read the evening papers. They were full of the row in the Near East, and there was an article about Karolides, the Greek Premier. I rather fancied the chap. From all accounts he seemed the one big man in the show; and he played a straight game too, which was more than could be said for most of them. I gathered that they hated him pretty blackly in Berlin and Vienna, but that we were going to stick by him, and one paper said that he was the only barrier between Europe and Armageddon. I remember wondering if I could get a job in those parts. It struck me that Albania was the sort of place that might keep a man from yawning.

About six o’clock I went home, dressed, dined at the Café Royal, and turned into a music hall. It was a silly show, all capering women and monkey-faced men, and I did not stay long. The night was fine and clear as I walked back to the flat I had hired near Portland Place. The crowd surged past me on the pavements, busy and chattering, and I envied the people for having something to do. These shopgirls and clerks and dandies and policemen had some interest in life that kept them going. I gave half-a-crown to a beggar because I saw him yawn; he was a fellow sufferer. At Oxford Circus I looked up into the spring sky and I made a vow. I would give the Old Country another day to fit me into something; if nothing happened, I would take the next boat for the Cape.

My flat was the first floor in a new block behind Langham Place. There was a common staircase, with a porter and a liftman at the entrance, but there was no restaurant or anything of that sort, and each flat was quite shut off from the others. I hate servants on the premises, so I had a fellow to look after me who came in by the day. He arrived before eight o’clock every morning and used to depart at seven, for I never dined at home.

I was just fitting my key into the door when I noticed a man at my elbow. I had not seen him approach, and the sudden appearance made me start. He was a slim man, with a short brown beard and small, gimlety blue eyes. I recognized him as the occupant of a flat on the top floor, with whom I had passed the time of day on the stairs.

‘Can I speak to you?’ he said. ‘May I come in for a minute?’ He was steadying his voice with an effort, and his hand was pawing my arm.

I got my door open and motioned him in. No sooner was he over the threshold than he made a dash for my back room, where I used to smoke and write my letters. Then he bolted back.

‘Is the door locked?’ he asked feverishly, and he fastened the chain with his own hand.

‘I’m very sorry,’ he said humbly. ‘It’s a mighty liberty, but you looked the kind of man who would understand. I’ve had you in my mind all this week when things got troublesome. Say, will you do me a good turn?’

‘I’ll listen to you,’ I said. ‘That’s all I’ll promise.’ I was getting worried by the antics of this nervous little chap.

There was a tray of drinks on a table beside him, from which he filled himself a stiff whisky-and-soda. He drank it off in three gulps, and cracked the glass as he set it down.

‘Pardon,’ he said, ‘I’m a bit rattled tonight. You see, I happen at this moment to be dead.’

I sat down in an armchair and lit my pipe.

‘What does it feel like?’ I asked. I was pretty certain that I had to deal with a madman.

A smile flickered over his drawn face. ‘I’m not mad—yet. Say, sir, I’ve been watching you, and I reckon you’re a cool customer. I reckon, too, you’re an honest man, and not afraid of playing a bold hand. I’m going to confide in you. I need help worse than any man ever needed it, and I want to know if I can count you in.’

‘Get on with your yarn,’ I said, ‘and I’ll tell you.’

He seemed to brace himself for a great effort, and then started on the queerest rigmarole. I didn’t get hold of it at first, and I had to stop and ask him questions. But here is the gist of it:

He was an American, from Kentucky, and after college, being pretty well off, he had started out to see the world. He wrote a bit, and acted as war correspondent for a Chicago paper, and spent a year or two in Southeastern Europe. I gathered that he was a fine linguist, and had got to know pretty well the society in those parts. He spoke familiarly of many names that I remembered to have seen in the newspapers.

He had played about with politics, he told me, at first for the interest of them, and then because he couldn’t help himself. I read him as a sharp, restless fellow, who always wanted to get down to the roots of things. He got a little further down than he wanted.

I am giving you what he told me as well as I could make it out. Away behind all the Governments and the armies there was a big subterranean movement going on, engineered by very dangerous people. He had come on it by accident; it fascinated him; he went further, and then he got caught. I gathered that most of the people in it were the sort of educated anarchists that make revolutions, but that beside them there were financiers who were playing for money. A clever man can make big profits on a falling market, and it suited the book of both classes to set Europe by the ears.

He told me some queer things that explained a lot that had puzzled me—things that happened in the Balkan War, how one state suddenly came out on top, why alliances were made and broken, why certain men disappeared, and where the sinews of war came from. The aim of the whole conspiracy was to get Russia and Germany at loggerheads.

When I asked why, he said that the anarchist lot thought it would give them their chance. Everything would be in the melting pot, and they looked to see a new world emerge. The capitalists would rake in the shekels, and make fortunes by buying up wreckage. Capital, he said, had no conscience and no fatherland. Besides, the Jew was behind it, and the Jew hated Russia worse than hell.

‘Do you wonder?’ he cried. ‘For three hundred years they have been persecuted, and this is the return match for the pogroms. The Jew is everywhere, but you have to go far down the backstairs to find him. Take any big Teutonic business concern. If you have dealings with it the first man you meet is Prince von und zu Something, an elegant young man who talks Eton-and-Harrow English. But he cuts no ice. If your business is big, you get behind him and find a prognathous Westphalian with a retreating brow and the manners of a hog. He is the German business man that gives your English papers the shakes. But if you’re on the biggest kind of job and are bound to get to the real boss, ten to one you are brought up against a little white-faced Jew in a bath chair with an eye like a rattlesnake. Yes, sir, he is the man who is ruling the world just now, and he has his knife in the Empire of the Tzar, because his aunt was outraged and his father flogged in some one-horse location on the Volga.’

I could not help saying that his Jew-anarchists seemed to have got left behind a little.

‘Yes and no,’ he said. ‘They won up to a point, but they struck a bigger thing than money, a thing that couldn’t be bought, the old elemental fighting instincts of man. If you’re going to be killed you invent some kind of flag and country to fight for, and if you survive you get to love the thing. Those foolish devils of soldiers have found something they care for, and that has upset the pretty plan laid in Berlin and Vienna. But my friends haven’t played their last card by a long sight. They’ve gotten the ace up their sleeves, and unless I can keep alive for a month they are going to play it and win.’

‘But I thought you were dead,’ I put in.

‘Mors janua vitae,’ he smiled. (I recognized the quotation: it was about all the Latin I knew.) ‘I’m coming to that, but I’ve got to put you wise about a lot of things first. If you read your newspaper, I guess you know the name of Constantine Karolides?’

I sat up at that, for I had been reading about him that very afternoon.

‘He is the man that has wrecked all their games. He is the one big brain in the whole show, and he happens also to be an honest man. Therefore he has been marked down these twelve months past. I found that out—not that it was difficult, for any fool could guess as much. But I found out the way they were going to get him, and that knowledge was deadly. That’s why I have had to decease.’

He had another drink, and I mixed it for him myself, for I was getting interested in the beggar.

‘They can’t get him in his own land, for he has a bodyguard of Epirotes that would skin their grandmothers. But on the

Reviews for The Thirty-Nine Steps

[haloedrain · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I was expecting more of a thriller, but after a while I stopped worrying about Hannay because the author keeps throwing him exactly what he needs, no matter how improbable.

[lisamorr · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Bored Richard Hannay has already had enough of London, after returning from a life abroad. But then a neighbor drops by and Richard's life becomes very exciting, very fast. The coincidences are unbelievable at times in this espionage thriller as Richard becomes embroiled in trying to stop a secret plot to undermine the British war effort as Europe marches towards WW1. Still it was a fun ride as Richard races across Scotland by train, car and on foot as he tries to shake his pursuers and expose the plot.

[thornton37814 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

It’s 1914, and World War I is eminent. Richard Hannay (a Scot) sets up house in London, having returned from Rhodesia. He meets a fearful American spy named Franklin P. Scudder who believes a plot is afoot to assassinate the Greek premier when he visits London. Scudder claims to be following a German spy ring. He allows him to stay with him. Soon two deaths, including Scudder’s occur in the building. Hannay worries he will be next for the assassins, but he must investigate himself, since he is the chief suspect. Hannay pores over Scudder’s notes, once he has broken the cipher. They mention “39 steps.” After being introduced to the Foreign Office by a local aspiring politician, his heroic actions prevent England from divulging secrets to the Germans. I listened to an audio version taken from the Golden Age of Radio with an introduction by Orson Wells and performed by a theatrical company. One had to listen quite carefully over the crackles to hear the soft voices of the actors. The recording quality is quite bad, and I recommend that persons wanting to listen to this one do so sitting in their living room as the original radio broadcasts were heard.

[encephalical · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I commend Keegan's introduction to the Penguin Classics edition for not only not containing any spoliers, but for calling out those which do.

[mrsrk-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Excellent book, and I enjoyed it from beginning to end. This is actually a series of five books. Following this one are: Greenmantle (1916), Mr. Standfast (1919), The Three Hostages (1924) and The Island of Sheep (1936). What led me to read “The 39 Steps” was James Hawes’ 2008 movie version starring Rupert Penry-Jones. I tried to watch Hitchcock’s version but couldn’t finish it, it was THAT bad. Although I enjoyed the modern movie, both fell very far from Buchan’s plot; there are so many changes the original story is barely recognizable. I can’t find a reasonable explanation for both directors adding female characters to the story; there were none in the book and no need for their addition. In fact, the Victoria Sinclair character of Hawes actually pushed Richard Hannay’s almost to second fiddle, when in the original story he was always the main character—and a very good one. Oddly, in the 2008 movie, all the glory goes to her—who did not even grace the original story. (Makes me wonder why the new 007 movies have a woman embodying “M,” when he was clearly a male in the original books…)

[m_k_m_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

John Buchan knew how to write a rollicking adventure - Christopher Hitchens described him as the bridge between Kipling and Fleming. Perhaps because of the political situation (the novel was first published in 1915, and is set in May and June 1914), spy thrillers were hugely popular at the time - Arthur Conan Doyle's "His Last Bow" is much more a spy story than it is a detective one, as were some of Agatha Christie's earlier books (The Secret Adversary, The Man in the Brown Suit) - but it's the pace and charm of Buchan's that leaves his as the icon of the genre. Hitchcock made his own version of The Thirty-Nine Steps in the 1930s, of course, but you can see how it informed so much more of his work: the (extremely capable) Everyman dragged into a plot with international ramifications, put on the run across picturesque landscapes, relying on luck, skill and a large amount of authorial intervention. It's a terrific formula, giving someone almost exactly like the reader a reason to be chased by biplanes and blown up - it's informed just about any male-orientated YA novel you've read. I can ignore the plot holes and contrivances; it gives me a warm feeling to read a story that's informed so many others I've loved.

[meredy_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Six-word review: Preposterous spy story furnishes lightweight diversion.Extended review:I'd call this very short novel a goofy romp, secret codes and murders and conspiracies and all. The wonder of it is that after a century it still has an audience. And it has.My only prior acquaintance with this yarn was the 1935 Hitchcock movie, which turns out not to have much in common with the novel. I recently read the author's first, Prester John, and this does have a lot in common with that, not surprisingly. In his dedication he affectionately likens it to the then-familiar American genre "the dime novel," what we would probably now call pulp fiction: sensational thrillers without much meat to them that deliver easy escapist entertainment.Published early in the second year of the first World War, the story takes place in the months leading up to it, when suspicion, fear, and paranoia on an international scale must have been very high indeed. The hero, Richard Hannay, is a daring adventurer who takes up the challenge of a spy mission after an agent is killed in his apartment. His escapades across the English countryside are as boldly executed as they are reliant on surpassingly mad coincidence and what must be an entire pantheon of friendly, or at least highly amused, deities. There is something of substance here, though, and it may be in part the hero's frank appetite for action, in part the sustained theme of imposture and disguise. There is also the better-than-competent prose, ensuring that despite the laughable improbabilities of plot, it remains exciting and absorbing. If you're in the right mood for it, it'll give you a few cheerful hours.

[furriebarry · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Fast paced and short. OK espionage pulp.

[sasham-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A fun adventure story full of the close encounters and unlikely coincidences that make great fiction

[benuathanasia · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Thoroughly enjoyable and fun from the start. Despite being rather dated and quite predictable, I couldn't put it down. Sadly, the audiobook was very obviously corrupted, so I'm not certain if I indeed got to hear the whole thing or if there were pieces missing, but at least I have an obvious excuse to re-read it!

[gypsysmom_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

At the beginning of this book there is a note from the author to a friend: MY DEAR TOMMY You and I have long cherished an affection for that elementary type of tale which Americans call the 'dime novel' and which we know as the 'shocker' -- the romance where the incidents defy the probabilities, and march just inside the borders of the possible. During an illness last winter I exhausted my store of those aids to cheerfulness, and was driven to write one for myself. This little volume is the result, and I should like to put your name on it in memory of our long friendship, in the days when the wildest fictions are so much less improbable than the facts. J.B. And so that is the genesis of one of the first spy novels. It is set in Britain just before World War I. A middle-aged man, Hannoy, has made his fortune in Africa and is living in London and getting thoroughly bored with his new life. Then his sedate existence is overturned when his upstairs neighbour asks for help. He claims to be in fear of his life because he has learned some information about Germany's intentions to start a war. Hannoy allows him to stay in his flat and listens to his tale but is sceptical about it. Then he comes home one night and finds his house guest stabbed to death. He realizes he will be next so he flees to Scotland where he manages to stay one step ahead of German agents and British police by effecting a number of disguises. He has managed to decipher the little black book his guest had always carried with him but he is still unclear as to the event which the spy said would take place on June 15th. The clue is in the phrase "Thirty-nine Steps" and once that is figured out the German plot can be foiled. This reminded me quite a bit of H. Rider Haggard's classic King Solomon's Mines which I read last year. Male-dominated adventure yarn but fun to read.

[troyka-3 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

very hard going when trying to understand dialect. it made it a chore for me, but its still a good book, just not dyslexia friendly.

[aront-2 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I heard this book read as an audio book on the best audio books' classic tales podcast. That's the only thing that made it bearable (check out the podcast it's excellent). Well the mercifully short ending helped. The fact that Hitchcock managed to make this into a fantastic film proves once again that books and their films are as closely related as a man and his fifth cousin twice removed.

[joe8dane · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A fun, quick read.

[bensdad00 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A classic of mystery, intrigue and adventure; set in a world immediately familiar and yet unfathomably foreign.

[russwhite · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The stretches to which the reader is expected to "suspend disbelief" in this book --the easy acceptance of a complete stranger and all he says at the highest levels of government, the absolute disguise of high level people, etc. --are incredible. On the other hand, the writing carries the reader through, drawing you on with enough detail, and enough excitement, to suspend disbelief and read.The reader should note this is a very old book, and writing styles today are a lot darker, and more lurid, than when this was written, so it might feel a little "light" to the modern reader. But don't that deter you from picking this up and trying it.

[mkfs-354306 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

An enjoyable yarn about a man on the run.

While this could easily have been a dated pre-War thriller, its self-consciousness ("I say sir, the story you tell sounds like one of those Haggard novels!") endears it to the modern reader.

[john5918 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Not only is it a classic and a great thriller, but it also features a lot of action on a train. What more could one want?

[joeld-2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I came across this book on The Classic Tales Podcast and listened to it that way. It's basically an enjoyable old spy thriller, not too long and with a straightforward, linear plot. The premise is sound and plausible, and the protagonist is well-sketched.

[drled_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Synopsis: Scottish born Hanney comes back from South Africa to his flat in London only to be confronted by an American who appears to know about an anarchist plot to destabilize Europe. After an apparent suicide and the murder of the American, Hanney flees for his life and ends up hiding in the Lake Country of England. Never knowing who to trust, Hanney must break up the plot and try to capture the anarchists.Review: This is one of the earliest novels about spies and plots to overthrow governments. While there are sections that are overly detailed, the story is involving.

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I had read this years ago, but I literally didn't remember one word of it. According to the preface, it was written as a lark by a gentleman who had been ill and became bored reading dime novels. He thought he could write his own and went on to write several more. As a first effort, it was far more than just serviceable. It was entertaining and a bit suspenseful. You definitely could identify with the protagonist Richard Hannay. I look forward to reading Buchan's later Hannay works.

[anniemod · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I am not sure why it took me so long to get around to reading Buchan - I had always known about his novels and they had always been somewhere on my TBR list but somehow I never got to them. I guess it was time to rectify that. Meet Richard Hannay - 37 years old, just back from Rhodesia (and now technically retired) and really bored. After all the excitement in South Africa, London and Britain are boring in the spring of 1914 (working out the year is not hard once you read the novel because the reference to the impeding and starting war is there but it is also as easy to figure it out in the first chapter when Hannay mentions the Balkan Wars and we know it is May - it cannot be 1913 because they are still raging and it cannot be 1915 because WWI had not started yet).Hannay is ready to catch a train to somewhere, anywhere if nothing happens... and then something does happen - a guy he had never met before confides in him about a huge conspiracy involving the powerful men of the day and within days, the guy is dead in Hannay's flat. The story is so outlandish that our hero is not sure how much to believe of it... but after the murder, he decides that the story must have merit and goes on a run in Scotland. Of course he manages to do it in a way that makes sure that he is blamed for the murder and our bored man is not on the run from both the police and the murderers. And somewhere along the way, it turns out that the conspiracy is not just real but that it is a lot more complicated than he thought. During his run Hannay meets all kind of different people - from a road worker to a politician wannabe to an old acquaintance; he manages to stumble right into the spies house (because the conspiracy involves foreign spies)- of course he does, there is no reason not to. Add to this a plane, a big explosion and Scotland Yard not just believing him but helping him at the end and the story is complete. It is a spy story from the times before every spy had to have a beautiful woman on his arm; before the time when a woman was mandatory for a novel and especially a spy novel. It is called one of the first novels with a man on a run and it is - the description of the run and the places where he goes through are done very well and make you want to read more. Buchan himself compares the novel to the dime novels so popular in the States at the time. And it really is very similar in tone to those pulp novels. But it is also very British in the way that only authors from the empire can make it. And despite its brevity, it makes you want to read about Hannay more - at least to see what else happens to him when he is bored... and what happens when he is not.

[eadieb-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I enjoyed this book very much. It was a very good, fast read with classic, historical importance. It held my interest from start to finish. If you like spy mysteries, then I would highly recommend this book.

[nmhale_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This adventure story is probably best known for its various movie adaptations, including Hitchcock's famous version. However, the story is significantly different. The main character has a different background and characterization, and the adventure is very focused on a rugged escapade in nature and matching wits against criminals.In essence, the story is about a young English Riched Hannay who is finding life in England unbearably stifling after his South African residence. This ennui is eradicated when a man living in a different floor in his building and asks for help. The American man reveals that he has stumbled upon an intricate plot to destabilize European government and power structure, starting with an attack against the British government. The man learned about a group of German spies called the Black Stone and he has been working on uncovering and thwarting them. He even faked his own death to throw his enemies off track. He has recently seen a dangerous adversary in town, however, and fears that he may be killed before he finishes his mission. He shows Richard his notebook full of encrypted clues, and asks for the favor of staying in Richard's flat for a few days.Richard thinks the man is a bit mad, but he allows him to stay with him.

[rlangston-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A slight disappointment given this book is on so many "must read" lists. More Ian Fleming than John le Carre, with a shallow plot and even shallower protagonist. That said, the book was written in 1915 and arguably established the genre.

[wdwilson3 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Hitchcock's "39 Steps" is one of my favorite old movies. That it sprung from this preposterous book impresses me even more. The similarities are limited to the title, the protagonist's name, and the first few chapters. After that, believe it or not, the movies is far more plausible.

[reneh-2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Maybe because I have seen three or four film versions, but there was not much tension for me while reading the book. Still three stars. The book is well written and now - at last - I know the real ending.

[santhony_35 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

For Christmas, I ordered an mp3 player (Library of Classics) that was pre-loaded with 100 works of classic literature in an audio format. Each work is in the public domain and is read by amateurs, so the quality of the presentation is hit or miss. The Thirty Nine Steps is a suspense/mystery novel dealing with intrigue leading up to World War I. The British narrator receives a strange visitor who gives him sensitive information involving a possible assassination attempt on a Balkan dignitary. When the visitor is soon killed, the narrator realizes he is not only in trouble with the authorities (suspected of having murdered the victim), but even more so from the shadowy German organization who must silence him in order to proceed with their plans. The narrator leads the Germans on a merry chase, all the while trying to piece together their ultimate plan.This is not a bad piece of work, though it is relatively unremarkable. Very average in all respects.

[dbsovereign · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The classic later filmed by Alfred Hitchcock, this book is an adventure/romance whose hero/narrator exposes a spy ring and saves Britain from an invasion.

[seriousgrace · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It's May 1914 in London, England. Scottish expatriate Richard Hannay has a troublesome visitor. That's the first thing I would say about The Thirty Nine Steps. An American stranger has come to him with a wild tale of espionage and knowledge of a planned assassination. Because he was in the know, according to this stranger, Mr. Scudder, he had to fake his own death. He has come to Hannay to hide himself and his little coded book of secrets. However, imagine Hannay's surprise when that same man is found with a knife so thoroughly through the heart it skewered him to the floor! Needless to say, Hannay is now on the run...with the cipher of secrets. With Mr. Scudder dead on his floor, surely he will be the number one suspect. The rest of the short book is Hannay's attempts to hide out in Scotland, a place he hasn't seen since he was six years old, thirty one years ago. The key to the whole mystery is a reference to "39 steps" in Scudder's little book.