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Out in the front hall stood Miss Melling, holding in her hand a plate on which was a big piece of cake with thick frosting on it. C. M. F. “The Chief!” he heard Jerry pant as the footsteps ended in the hall. “Where is he?”.
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Conrad
“At him, Ted! We’ve got to keep him!” he panted as he struggled with his adversary. What a clear light green the water was under the wharf! You could see every single snail shell, every starfish, and every tiniest stone on the smooth, light-colored bottom. Whole schools of small fish darted, quick as lightning, between the slimy old piles. Once in a while a lazy eel glided under the wharf, wound slowly in and out, lay still a moment as if to sun itself, then slowly, curve after curve, took itself out again. When he was in the street he put the precious report into his pocket, whistling joyously a beautiful tune that his mother often played. Who cared for any one’s teasing now? Even the boys might try it if they liked, for he was ready for them. The Principal knew all there was to know. Awfully kind man, that Principal! Jerry turned. “You’re right, I guess. It’s the Labyrinth.”.
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