Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
The teacher advanced, his fears at rest. "My name is Johnston," he said, "George G. Johnston. I was directed here, sir. You are Mr. Keeler, are you not, one of the trustees of the school of which I am to have charge?" Croaker considered this last statement a moment. Then he carefully raised one foot and twisted half way around on the bar. "American, your honour.".
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
🎁 Don't Miss Out on Today's Special Offer at Cbet app downloadl!I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
🎁 Don't Miss Out on Betjee's Special Offers
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"But Bill," urged Jim, "the oil they've found there'll make you rich." "There was three voices," whispered Scraff. "They seemed to be scattered among the trees. It's black magic, that's what it is—or old Scroggie's ghost," he finished with a shudder. "Yep; they don't seem to take to the crick water," Billy replied. "It's sort of scummy an' smells queer." "Gee whitticker!" gasped Billy, "you must been havin' an argument with a mule. Who give you that black eye an' split lip, Anse?".
298 people found this
review helpful