CHAPTER VIII
“BEST LAID PLANS”
Joe came home the next day, and his indignation, when Jessie told him of the fire, and of the manner—presumably—in which it originated, was nearly as scorching as the fire itself. Nothing in the whole affair seemed to rouse his wrath to such a pitch as did her recital of the theories that she and Mrs. Horton had evolved to account for the threatened disaster.
“W’at sort of fool talk dat?” he inquired, contemptuously, when Jessie had concluded.
“Why, Joe, the fire must have started in some such way!” Jessie insisted.
“Honey, yo’s done got a forgibbin’ sperrit; yo’ not only forgibs yo’ inimy, like what de Bible say fur ter do, but yo’ eben furgits dat yo’ has one!”
“Oh, Joe! Surely you cannot think that it was the work of an incendiary?”