Our bus stopped in the main square of a town totally different from the usual Russian scenery.

The man stopped in front of Pat about four or five feet from him.

Sometimes a musician or two stopped in on the way home from a gig downtown.

She stopped in the circle of light from a street lamp.

Then he stopped in front of a door two down from his.

His 4-iron shot stopped in the fringe, maybe 30 feet from the hole.

Luckily for Woods, it stopped in the rough, about six inches from the water.

Barbara stopped in the street beside his rental car, two blocks from her house.

Jack hit a nice chip that stopped in the middle of the green, maybe 30 feet from the hole.

Production stopped in 1900, after a decline from 1854.