Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
As they rode along Bob ignored Jerry’s evident irritation, knowing that it was caused by his forced presence. He talked about a thousand things. Jerry tried to answer in a light and casual manner but he made a rather bad attempt at it. Bob was looking into the glowing coals, thinking over the events of the day, which, since they had turned out safely, were now to be treasured as great adventures. Jerry for his part was lying looking up at the narrow strip of star-lit sky showing between the edges of the canyon’s top. Suddenly he rolled over and put his hand on his companion’s shoulder. “These canals were started by the Indians,” said Jerry, “and were made bigger and longer by the white settlers. When we get up to Holman’s you’ll see some real irrigation.”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Unleash your creativity with Sticker Stories that narrate your emotions in a visual language. Write your story through stickers that resonate with your Indian identity and cultural roots.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
Sign up today to enjoy a lucrative ₹777 No-Deposit Bonus, a jaw-dropping 300% First Deposit Bonus, 88 Free Spins, and an unforgettable gaming experience. Dive into the action with just a minimum deposit of ₹200!
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
The Principal was a large man with a thick, blond beard and sharp, blue eyes. “Yes, Aunt Grenertsen.” “I get you. I can try it anyhow. But, Bob, I figger there’s a lot in that trouble down at the border. Before I left home some broncho busters happened in from Columbus and they said somethin’ was liable to bust most any time. The Greasers are sore as pups since we sent a bunch of troops down there. If some yellow half-breed could blow up what we’ve got finished of the dam, wouldn’t it be a mighty fine feather to stick in his sombrero?” The boy stood straight under the taunts his former friend heaped upon him. A little smile was at the corner of his mouth as he answered..
298 people found this
review helpful