“Did Mr. Horton catch his horse?” Jessie inquired.
“I don’t know; I hope not, I’m sure. I think a five-mile walk will do him good. He’ll have time to cool off a little.”
“He thinks that we have made a false entry here,” Jessie went on, resentfully, approaching the window ledge and turning the leaves of the record. “Why,” she continued, “it does not seem to me that even a hardened criminal would dare to do a thing like that! And I’m not a hardened criminal—yet. I am not sure but that I might become one if I am obliged to see much of Mr. Horton, though!” She closed the book and, stepping up on a chair, laid it on the shelf where our few books were kept. When she stepped down again she had another book in her arms. It was a large, square, leather-bound volume, almost identical in appearance with the one that she had just laid away.
“What are you looking in the dictionary for?” I asked, as she laid the book on the broad window ledge that made such a convenient reading-desk.
“I want to know exactly what ‘fundamental’ means,” she replied. “I know pretty well, or I think I do, but I want to know exactly.”
Finding the word, she presently read aloud:
“‘Fundamental—pertaining to the foundation; hence, essential, elementary; a leading or primary principle; an essential.’”
“Well, that’s plain enough,” she said, closing the book; “but I think we have looked out for fundamental clauses pretty faithfully. I wish that Joe was at home; we must get an early start to-morrow. It is foolish to feel so, when we know just how matters stand; but, somehow, Mr. Horton’s threats have made me uneasy.”
“No wonder! The very sight of him is enough to make one shudder. But I don’t see that there is anything that we can do, more than we are doing, Jessie.”