"Mr. Kincaid must have been standing on a stump," he thought.
Mr. Kincaid's preparations were as careful and as wasteful of time as ever.
Shade now works at the Kincaid Mill No. 2, he makes sacks and takes up waste.
Mr. Kincaid and Bobby were often afield on the beech ridges.
Dr. Kincaid, if you're staying away with any idea of sparing embarrassment to me, I beg that you won't.
"The time to wash dishes is right away," said Mr. Kincaid briskly.
Mr. Kincaid wore an ancient gray slouch hat pulled low over his eyes; and a very old suit of gray clothes, wrinkled and baggy.
"Thought you weren't going to-morrow," suggested Mr. Kincaid.
Bobby passed out the wooden ducks two by two, and Mr. Kincaid stowed them carefully amidships.
Mr. Kincaid, very intent, shot and loaded as fast as he was able.