The shack heaved, toppled, righted itself and went on down, and down, and down; jerked sidewise to the left, went forward and then swung joltingly the other way.

When finally it came to a permanent stand it was sitting with an almost level floor.
Then the four corners heaved upward, two at a time, and settled with a final squeal of twisted boards and nails.

There was a sound of confused trampling, and after that the lessening sounds of departure.

Mr.Owens tried the door again, and found it still fast.

He relighted the lamp, carried it to the window and looked upon rough boards outside the glass.
He meditated anxiously and decided to remain quiet until daylight.
The Happy Family worked hard, that night.