They had been running; he could tell that by their uneven breathing, and it occurred to him that they must have heard the clamor when he pitched Mose head first into the dish cupboard.

There had been considerable noise about that time, he remembered; they must also have heard the howl Mose gave at the instant of contact.

Ford glanced involuntarily at that side of the room where stood the cupboard, and mentally admitted that it looked like there had been a slight disagreement, or else a severe seismic disturbance; and Montana is not what one calls an earthquake country.
His eyes left the generous sprinkle of broken dishes on the floor, with Mose sprawled inertly in their midst, looking not unlike a broken platter himself--or one badly nicked--and rested again upon the grinning face behind the shoulder of Jim Felton.
Ford was ever a man of not many words, even when he had a grievance.

He made straight for Dick, and when he had pushed Jim out of the way, he reached him violently.

Dick tottered upon the step and went off backward, and Ford landed upon him fairly and with full knowledge and intent.
[Illustration: Dick tottered upon the step and went off backward.] Jim Felton was a wise young man.