As she went down the path, he started to close the closet door; then paused as he remembered his hunting boots drying outside on the porch. They belonged in the closet, so leaving the door open he went to fetch them from the heavy, rustic table on which they stood, along with his bag and topcoat.
Alec was coming up from the lake and waved to him from a distance. A chipmunk, hearing Judson's heavy tread, abandoned the acorn he was about to add to his store within the cabin wall and disappeared, like an electric bulb burning out. Judson, reaching for his boots, stepped fairly upon the acorn, his foot slid from under him and his head struck the massive table as he fell.
Several minutes later he began to regain his senses. Alec's strong arm was supporting his as he lay on the porch and a kindly voice was saying: "'Twarn't much of a fall, Mr. Webb. You aren't cut none; jest knocked out for a minute. Here, take this; it'll pull you together."

License information: nan
MPAA: G
Go to source: https://www.commonlit.org/texts/ruthless