Since his last novel was published 71 years ago, and he died 44 years ago, you might not think Dashiell Hammett would still be making publishing news. You would be as misinformed as Rick Blaine was when he went to the desert city of Casablanca for the waters. The author’s recently published “Lost Stories” (Vince Emery, 352 pages, $27.95), is a treasure trove of distinguished fiction for every fan of detective fiction.

It is not uncommon for scholars to dig around for unpublished material by major writers, picking at the bones for little scraps like buzzards on a zebra carcass after the lions have had their fill. But there is generally a good reason these pages went unpublished. More often than not, they are so bad they would gag a sword-swallower.

That is not at all the case with this important book, which deserves the loudest cheer since the women’s prison learned it was getting Martha Stewart. A beautifully produced volume with eight illustrations and 24 photographs, it has a lengthy introduction by Joe Gores, one of the elite crime writers in America.

Mr. Gores has garnered a deserved reputation as a major Hammett scholar and aficionado. In addition to writing “Hammett,” a private-eye novel in which the former Pinkerton detective is the protagonist, he has written extensively about the most influential mystery writer of the 20th century. He even unearthed the original version of “The Thin Man” – which was dramatically different from the published version.

The new book also includes two highly informative essays by Vince Emery, the publisher, who is clearly both well-informed and enthusiastic about this, his first publication. Ultimately, however, it is the stories that are the raison d’etre for this volume, and they are more than worthwhile – they are essential.

It is almost shocking to realize that several of these stories never had been published in book form prior to this collection. Others appeared only in flimsy paperback collections of the 1940s that are now rarer than a boxer blaming God for a defeat.

The first of the 21 stories in this satisfying hefty volume is, appropriately enough, Hammett’s very first published story, “The Barber and His Wife,” written in 1922, when he was 28 years old. It is not a mystery story but a tale of seething dislike between a macho husband and his seemingly meek wife. When he learns she has been seeing another man, he beats him up, assuming this will resolve his unpleasant situation – not understanding for an instant that it is he who is the problem, not the other man.

The story received rejection slips from all the magazines to which he submitted it. Eventually, his first appearance in print was in one of that era’s most prestigious publications, the Smart Set, edited by George Jean Nathan and H.L. Mencken. Hammett’s piece was a short-short story, one long paragraph, for which he was paid $1.13. But it opened doors, probably helping to get “The Barber and His Wife” accepted by a fledgling pulp fiction magazine, Brief Stories, for its December 1922 issue.

“Lost Stories” is not a collection only for scholars, collectors, and diehard devotees of Dashiell Hammett. It is a book to be read with pleasure, and some of the stories are among his most accomplished. “Ber-Bulu,” for example, takes place on one of the islands of the Sulu Archipelago in the Philippines – a rare choice for Hammett, who usually set his stories in American cities.

Set shortly after the Spanish-American War, it is the story of a Muslim with several wives and a slave girl he loves. Through the efforts of a missionary, he has half-heartedly converted to Christianity and gone off to officially divorce so he can marry the slave. While away, Levison, a giant of a man and covered with hair (much prized on the tiny island), takes the girl for his own.

The Muslim returns and bursts through the door to confront “Ber-Bulu (The Hairy One). “His eyes were red over black,” Hammett writes. “He wasn’t at home in Christianity yet, so he cursed Levison with Mohammedan curses. They are good enough up to a point, but the climax – usually pig – falls a bit flat on western ears.”

“Ber-Bulu” is Hammett’s only historical tale – though the time is as unimportant as the locale is vital. And his subtle humor is even more in evidence than usual. While an atypical story, it does include most of the characteristics of a typical Hammett narrative: vivid characters, naturalistic dialogue, the corruption and breakdown of some social convention, a troubled romantic relationship, and an untrustworthy woman. Sounds like “The Maltese Falcon,” doesn’t it?

Speaking of which, this same publisher is also bringing out a trade paperback edition of an extraordinary book: “Discovering ‘The Maltese Falcon’ and Sam Spade” ($19.95, 376 pages). This large book includes 250 illustrations and was edited by the world’s pre-eminent Hammett scholar, Richard Layman.

It is a giant treasure box, filled with pictures, lists, articles, and more than you thought you wanted to know about what is arguably the single greatest detective novel of all time. But how can you resist looking at the book’s sales figures, for instance, in all editions? Or reading contemporary reviews? Or noting the differences between the pulp magazine serialization in Black Mask and the book publication by Knopf? Or seeing the production notes for all three film versions?

It’s like a giant box of assorted chocolates. You may not want to know too much about unproduced play versions of the classic, or care about an attempted British plagiarism (does anybody really like those raspberry creams?), but there is so much alluring stuff in this giant grab-bag that it must be fattening.

Mr. Penzler is the proprietor of the Mysterious Bookshop in Manhattan and the series editor of the annual “Best American Mystery Stories.” He can be reached at openzler@nysun.com.