“I had breakfast yesterday morning,” said he, “about forty mile from here.”
“And nothing since?” said I, in astonishment.
“Fresh air and water and exercise,” said he, and sat down on the grass. He was silent for a long while, and so was I. For a notion had struck me, though I hardly dared to give it voice.
“Are you going away?” I asked at last.
He laughed.
“Why?” said he.
“If you were going to Kaintuckee—” I began, and faltered. For he stared at me very hard.
“Kaintuckee!” he said. “There's a country! But it's full of blood and Injun varmints now. Would you leave Polly Ann and go to Kaintuckee?”
“Are you going?” I said.
“I reckon I am,” he said, “as soon as I kin.”