Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
On Sunday morning he was up before his room-mate, and when the latter came out the front door of the Quarter-house he was waiting for him. Bob mingled with the crowd and finally drifted into the moving picture show. His mind was busy with his problem and he did not pay as much attention as usual to the scenes that were flashed before him on the screen. He became aware, however, even in the dim light, that directly in front of him sat an Indian, seemingly alone. A little to the left were a crowd of Mexicans, who, from their boisterous behavior, seemed to have been able to smuggle some whiskey into the camp, which, of course, was absolutely forbidden on a Government job. “Exactly—‘deep in’—that was Conscience, little John.”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Keeler's roaring laugh might have been heard half a mile away. "Well, along you go," he shouted, lifting Billy bodily over the gate. "You'll find Ma deefer than usual on account of a cold in the head, so talk real close and loud to her."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
"We are honoured by your lordship's command," cried the Admiral. "May I venture to introduce myself as Admiral Sir William Lawrence? And I beg the honour of introducing my friend Captain Acton, late of His[Pg 401] Majesty's Royal Navy, and his daughter, Miss Lucy Acton."
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
First, he would try fishing far out over the flower beds with his rod. There! he had caught and broken off a big, dark red rose. The well was naturally a better place to fish. Johnny Blossom fished up the most incredible things from that well. He first threw them in, of course, and then it was a tremendous piece of work to get them out again—leaves, flowers, his own straw hat—yes, it was certainly an extra fine fishing rod. He would write at once to Uncle Isaac and thank him for it. “Why don’t they shoot?” he thought. Hardly had the thought flashed through his brain when a bullet whistled by him. Then came another and another. “Thanks, fellows, thanks,” laughed the Chief. “It will be fine for all of us. But that’s enough of my news—what have you chaps been up to? Been bored?” “That’s fine,” returned Whitney. “But the boys—”.
298 people found this
review helpful