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. He stood back and let them fight it
out, and when it was over he said never a word until Dick had picked
himself up and walked off, holding to his nose a handkerchief that
reddened rapidly.
"Say, you are a son-of-a-gun to fight," he observed admiringly then to
Ford. "Don't you know Dick's supposed to be abso-lute-ly unlickable?"
"May be so--but he sure shows all the symptoms of being licked right at
present." Ford moved a thumb joint gently to see whether it was really
dislocated or merely felt that way.
"He's going up to the house now, to tell the missus," remarked Jim,
craning his neck from the doorway.
"If he does that," Ford replied calmly, "I'll half kill him next time.
What I gave him just now is only a sample package left on the doorstep
to try.
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