-11-
Monday
She wasn't disappointed on meeting the owner
of that bellow. J.C. Kingman was one of the largest men she'd ever
seen: at least six foot five, massively built, and accumulating a
second spare tire around the middle. His red face was relaxed and
genial, the hand he extended scrupulously clean and well-kept.
His office was just the opposite. No bigger
then eight foot square, almost half of which was taken up by a
large desk and a set of filing cabinets, every available flat space
was covered with piles of papers, tools, cans, bottles, and spare
parts. Kingman suggested she take a seat, then removed a pile of
notebooks from the only extra chair and a set of wrenches from the
arm. He looked around for a place to put the books and wrenches,
considered his disastrously-l
