He drew back and passed his hand over his forehead; it ached, and he wanted to think about what he ought to do with Dick.

He did not like to discharge him without first consulting Mrs.Kate, for he knew that Ches Mason was in the habit of talking things over with her, and since Mason was gone, she had assumed an air of latent authority.

But Mrs.Kate had looked at him with such reproachful eyes, that day at dinner, and her voice had sounded so squeezed and unnatural, that he had felt too far removed from her for any discussion whatever to take place between them.
Besides, he knew he could prove absolutely nothing against Dick, if Dick were disposed toward flat denial.

He might suspect--but the facts showed Ford the aggressor, and Mose also.

What if Mrs.Kate declined to believe that Dick had put that jug of whisky in the kitchen, and had afterward given it to Ford?
Ford had no means of knowing just what tale Dick had told her, but he did know that Mrs.Kate eyed him doubtfully, and that her conversation was forced and her manner constrained.
And Josephine was worse.