“Without an escort?”
“It’s not far.”
“We’ll have to pass the Burmaster place and that horrid tulip tree.”
“Who’s afraid of a tulip tree?” Penny laughed. “Come on, if we don’t get away quickly Old Silas will ask some young man to take us home. That would be humiliating.”
Louise reluctantly followed her chum. The girls obtained their wraps and without attracting attention, slipped out a side door.
“Why do you suppose Mrs. Lear slipped off without saying a word?” Louise complained as she and Penny walked rapidly along the dark, muddy road. “Our shoes will be ruined!”
“So is my ego!” Penny added irritably. “Joe Quigley certainly let us down too. He was attentive enough until after supper. Then he simply vanished.”
The night was very dark for driving clouds had blotted out the stars. Overhanging trees cast a cavernous gloom upon the twisting hillside road. Louise caught herself shivering. Sternly she told herself that it came from the cold air rather than nervousness.
Presently the girls approached the Burmaster estate. No lights were burning, but the rambling building loomed up white and ghost-like through the trees.
“I’ll breathe natural when we’re across the bridge,” Penny admitted with a laugh. “If Mr. Burmaster keeps a guard hidden in the bushes, the fellow might heave a rock at us on general principles.”
There was no sign of anyone near the estate. Yet both Penny and Louise sensed that they were being watched. The unpleasant sensation of uneasiness increased as they drew nearer the foot bridge.
“Penny, I’m scared,” Louise suddenly admitted.
“Of what?” Penny asked with forced cheerfulness.
“It’s too quiet.”
The half-whispered words died on Louise’s lips. Unexpectedly, the stillness of the night was broken by the clatter of hoofbeats.
Startled, the girls whirled around. A horse with a rider had plunged through the dense bushes only a short distance behind them. At a hard run he came straight toward the foot bridge.
“The ghost rider!” Louise whispered in terror.
She and Penny stood frozen in their tracks. Plainly they could see the white-robed figure. His lumpy, misshapen hulk, seemed rigidly fastened to the horse. Where his head should have been there was only a stub.
CHAPTER
11
THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN
Swift as the wind, the headless horseman approached the narrow bridge. Penny seized Louise’s hand, jerking her off the road. The ghost rider thundered past them onto the bridge planks which resounded beneath the steel-shod hoofs.
“Jeepers creepers!” Penny whispered. “That’s no boy prankster this time! It’s the real thing!”
The thunder of hoofbeats had not gone unheard by those within the walls of Sleepy Hollow. Lights flashed on in the house. Two men with lanterns came running from the mill shack.
“Get him! Get him!” screamed a woman’s voice from an upstairs window of the house.
The clamor did not seem to disturb the goblin rider. At unchanged pace he clattered across the bridge to its far side. As the two men ran toward him, he suddenly swerved, plunging his horse across a ditch and up a steep bank. There he drew rein for an instant. Rising in his stirrups, he hurled a small, hard object at the two guards. It missed them by inches and fell with a thud on the bridge. Then with a laugh that resembled no earthly sound, the Headless Horseman rode through a gap in the bushes and was gone.
Louise and Penny ran to the bridge. Half way across they found the object that had been hurled. It was a small, round stone to which had been fastened a piece of paper.
Penny picked up the missile. Before she could examine it, Mr. Burmaster came running from the house. He had not taken time to dress, but had thrown a bathrobe over his pajamas.
“You let that fellow get away again!” he shouted angrily to the two workmen. “Can’t you ever stay on the job?”
“See here, Mr. Burmaster,” one of the men replied. “We work eight hours a day and then do guard duty at night. You can’t expect us to stay awake twenty-four hours a day!”
“All right, all right,” Mr. Burmaster retorted irritably. Turning toward the bridge he saw Louise and Penny. “Well, so you’re here again?” he observed, though not in an unfriendly tone.
Penny explained that she and Louise had attended the barn dance and were on their way to the Lear cabin.
“What’s that you have in your hand?” he interrupted.
“A stone that the Headless Horseman threw at your workmen. There’s a paper tied to it.”
“Let’s have it,” Mr. Burmaster commanded.
Penny handed over the stone though she would have preferred to have examined it herself. Mr. Burmaster cut the string which kept the paper in place. He held it beneath one of the lanterns.
Large capital letters cut from newspaper headlines had been pasted in an uneven row across the page. The words spelled a message which read:
“KICK IN HANDSOMELY ON THE HUNTLEY DAM FUND. IF YOU OBLIGE, THE GALLOPING GHOST WILL BOTHER YOU NO MORE.”
Mr. Burmaster read the message aloud and crumpling the paper, stuffed it into the pocket of his robe.
“There, you see!” he cried angrily. “It’s all a plot to force me to put up money for the Huntley Dam!”
“Who do you think the prankster is?” Penny asked.
“How should I know!” Mr. Burmaster stormed. “The townspeople of Delta may be behind the scheme. Or those hill rats like Silas Malcom! Then it could be Old Lady Lear.”
“Can she ride a horse?” Louise interposed.
“Can that old witch ride?” Mr. Burmaster snorted. “She was born in a saddle. Has one of the best horses in the valley too. A jumper.”
Penny and Louise thought of Trinidad with new respect. Not without misgiving they recalled that Mrs. Lear had slipped away from the barn dance ahead of them. Wisely they kept the knowledge to themselves.
“I’ll give a thousand dollars for the capture of that rascal!” Mr. Burmaster went on. “And if it proves to be Mrs. Lear I’ll add another five hundred.”
“Why, not be rid of the Ghost in an easier way?” Penny suggested. “Give the money to the Huntley Dam Fund.”
“Never! I’ll not be blackmailed! Besides, the rains are letting up. There’s no danger.”
Penny and Louise did not attempt to argue the matter. The Huntley Dam feud was none of their concern. By the following day they expected to be far from the valley.
“There’s another person who might be behind this,” Mr. Burmaster continued. “A newspaper editor at Hobostein. He always hated me and he’s been using his paper to write ugly editorials. I ought to sue him for slander.”
Though the Headless Horseman episode had excited the girls, they were tired and eager to get to Mrs. Lear’s. Accordingly, they cut the conversation short and started on down the road. Mr. Burmaster fell into step walking with them as far as the house.
“Come to see us sometime,” he invited with a cordiality that astonished the girls. “Mrs. Burmaster gets very lonesome. She’s nervous but she means well.”
“I’m sure she does,” Penny responded kindly. She hesitated, then added: “I do hope you catch the prankster. Have you considered putting a barricade at the end of the bridge?”
“Can’t do it. When we built this place we had to agree to keep the footbridge open to pedestrians.”
“Suppose one had a moveable barrier,” Penny suggested. “Couldn’t your workmen keep watch and swing it into place after the Horseman started across the bridge? With one at each end he’d be trapped.”
“It’s an idea to be considered,” Mr. Burmaster admitted. “The only trouble is that my workmen aren’t worth their salt as guards. But we’ll see.”
Penny and Louise soon bade the estate owner goodnight and went on down the road. Once beyond hearing they discussed the possibility that Mrs. Lear might have masqueraded as the Headless Horseman.
“It was queer the way she disappeared from the dance,” Penny speculated. “Granting that she’s a spry old lady, I doubt she’d have it in her to pull off the trick.”
“I’m not so sure,” Louise argued. “Mr. Burmaster said she was a wonderful rider. Didn’t you think that horse tonight looked like Trinidad?”
“Goodness, it was too dark to see! In any case, what about the buggy?”
“Mrs. Lear could have unhitched it somewhere in the woods.”
Penny shook her head. “It doesn’t add up somehow. For that matter, nothing about this affair does.”
Rounding a curve, the girls came within view of the Lear cabin. No light burned, but they took it for granted Mrs. Lear had gone to bed.
“Let’s give a look-see in the barn,” Penny proposed. “I want to make sure that our horses are all right.”
“And to see that the buggy is there too,” laughed Louise.
They went past the dripping water trough to the barn and opened the doors. White Foot nickered. Bones kicked at the stall boards. Penny tossed both horses a few ears of corn and then walked on to Trinidad’s stall. It was empty. Nor was there any evidence of a buggy.
“Well, what do you think of that!” Penny commented. “Mrs. Lear’s not been home!”
“Then maybe Mr. Burmaster’s theory is right!” Louise exclaimed, staring at the empty stall. “Mrs. Lear could have been the one!”
“Listen!” commanded Penny.
Plainly the girls could hear a horse and vehicle coming down the road. It was Mrs. Lear, and a moment later she turned into the yard. Penny swung open the barn doors. Trinidad rattled in and pulled up short. His sleek body was covered with sweat as if he had been driven hard.
Mrs. Lear leaped lightly to the barn floor and began to unhitch the horse.
“Well, I’m mighty glad to find you here,” she chirped. “Joe brought you home, didn’t he?”
Penny replied that she and Louise had walked.
“You don’t say!” the old woman exclaimed. “I went down the road a piece to see a friend o’ mine. By the time I got back the frolic was over. I calculated Joe must have brought you home.”
Penny and Louise offered little comment as they helped Mrs. Lear unhitch Trinidad. However, they could see that the old lady was fairly brimming-over with suppressed excitement.
“It’s late, but I ain’t one bit tired,” Mrs. Lear declared as they all entered the house. “There’s somethin’ mighty stimulatin’ about a barn dance.”
Penny was tempted to remark that her hostess had spent very little time at Silas Malcom’s place. Instead she remained silent.
The girls went at once to bed. Mrs. Lear did not follow them upstairs immediately, but puttered about the kitchen preparing herself a midnight snack. Finally her step was heard on the stairs.
“Good night, girls,” she called cheerfully as she passed their door. “Sleep tight.”
Mrs. Lear entered her own bedroom. Her door squeaked shut. A shoe was heard to thud on the floor, then another.
“I wish I knew what to think,” Penny confided to Louise in a whisper. “She’s the queerest old lady—”
Louise had no opportunity to reply. For both girls were startled to hear a shrill cry from the far end of the hall.
The next instant their bedroom door burst open. Mrs. Lear, grotesque in old fashioned flannel nightgown, staggered into the room.
“Why, what’s wrong?” Penny asked in astonishment.
“I’ve been robbed!” Mrs. Lear proclaimed wildly. “I’ve been robbed!”
CHAPTER
12
PREMONITIONS
Penny leaped out of bed and touched a match to the wick of an oil lamp. In its flickering yellow glow Mrs. Lear looked as pale as a ghost.
“While we were at the barn dance someone broke into the house,” the old lady explained in an agitated voice. “The deed’s gone! Now I’ll be put off my land like the others. Oh, lawseeme, I wisht I was dead!”
“What deed do you mean?” Penny asked, perplexed.
“Why, the deed to this house and my land! I’ve always kept it under the mattress o’ my bed. Now it’s gone!”
“Isn’t the deed recorded?”
“No, it ain’t. I always calculated on havin’ it done, but I wanted to save the fee long as I could. Figured to have the property put in my son’s name jes’ before I up and died. He’s married and livin’ in Omaha. Now see what a mess I’m in.”
“If the deed is lost and not recorded, you are in difficulties,” Penny agreed.
“Perhaps it isn’t lost,” said Louise, encouragingly. “Did you search everywhere, Mrs. Lear?”
“I pulled the bed half to pieces.”
“We’ll help you look for it,” Penny offered. “It must be here somewhere.”
“This is the fust time in twenty years that anyone ever stole anything off me,” the old lady wailed as she led the way down the dark hall. “But I kinda knowed somethin’ like this was goin’ to happen.”
Mrs. Lear’s bedroom was in great disorder. Blankets had been strewn over the floor and the limp mattress lay doubled up on the springs.
“You see!” the old lady cried. “The deed’s gone! I’ve looked everywhere.”
Penny and Louise carefully folded all the blankets. They straightened the mattress and searched carefully along the springs. They looked beneath the bed. The missing paper was not to be found.
“Are you sure you didn’t hide it somewhere else?” Penny asked.
“Fer ten years I’ve kept that deed under the bed mattress!” the old lady snapped. “Oh, it’s been stole all right. An’ there’s the tracks o’ the thievin’ rascal that did it too!”
Mrs. Lear lowered the oil lamp closer to the floor. Plainly visible were the muddy heelprints of a woman’s shoe. The marks had left smudges on the rag rugs which dotted the room; they crisscrossed the bare floor to the door, the window and the bed. Penny and Louise followed the trail down the hallway to the stairs. They picked it up again in the kitchen and there lost it.
“You don’t need to follow them tracks no further,” Mrs. Lear advised grimly. “I know who it was that stole the deed. There ain’t nobody could o’ done it but Mrs. Burmaster!”
“Mrs. Burmaster!” Louise echoed, rather stunned by the accusation.
“She’d move Heaven and Earth to git me off this here bit o’ land. She hates me, and I hate her.”
“But how could Mrs. Burmaster know you had the deed?” Penny asked. “You never told her, did you?”
“Seems to me like onest in an argument I did say somethin’ about having it here in the house,” Mrs. Lear admitted. “We was goin’ it hot and heavy one day, an’ I don’t remember jest what I did tell her. Too much, I reckon.”
The old lady sat down heavily in a chair by the stove. She looked sick and beaten.
“Don’t take it so hard,” Penny advised kindly. “You can’t be sure that Mrs. Burmaster stole the deed.”
“Who else would want it?”
“Some other person might have done it for spite.”
Mrs. Lear shook her head. “So far’s I know, I ain’t got another enemy in the whole world. Oh, Mrs. Burmaster done it all right.”
“But what can she hope to gain?” asked Penny.
“She aims to put me off this land.”
“Mr. Burmaster seems like a fairly reasonable man. I doubt he’d make any use of the deed even if his wife turned it over to him.”
“Maybe not,” Mrs. Lear agreed, “but Mrs. Burmaster ain’t likely to give it to her husband. She’ll find some other way to git at me. You see!”
Nothing Penny or Louise could say cheered the old lady.
“Don’t you worry none about me,” she told them. “I’ll brew a cup o’ tea and take some aspirin. Then maybe I kin think up a way to git that deed back. I ain’t through yet—not by a long shot!”
Long after Penny and Louise had gone back to bed the old lady remained in the kitchen. It was nearly three o’clock before they heard her tiptoe upstairs to her room. But at seven the next morning she was abroad as usual and had breakfast waiting for them.
“I’ve thought things through,” she told Penny as she poured coffee from a blackened pot. “It won’t do no good to go to Mrs. Burmaster and try to make her give up that deed. I’ll jes wait and see what she does fust.”
“And in the meantime, the deed may show up,” Penny replied. “Even though you think Mrs. Burmaster took it, there’s always a chance that it was only misplaced.”
“Foot tracks don’t lie,” the old lady retorted. “I was out lookin’ around early this morning. Them prints lead from my door straight toward the Burmasters!”
Deeply as were the girls interested in Mrs. Lear’s problem, they knew that they could be of no help to her. Already they had lingered in Red Valley far longer than their original plan. They shuddered to think what their parents would say if and when they returned to Riverview.
“Lou, we have to start for Hobostein right away!” Penny announced. “We’ll be lucky if we get there in time to catch a train home.”
Mrs. Lear urged her young guests to remain another day, but to her kind invitation they turned deaf ears. In vain they pressed money upon her. She refused to accept anything so Penny was compelled to hide a bill in the teapot where it would be found later.
“You’ll come again?” the old lady asked almost plaintively as she bade them goodbye.
“We’ll try to,” Penny promised, mounting Bones. “But if we do it will be by train.”
“I got a feeling I ain’t goin’ to be here much longer,” Mrs. Lear said sadly.
“Don’t worry about the deed,” Penny tried to cheer her. “Even if Mrs. Burmaster should have it, she may be afraid to try to make trouble for you.”
“It ain’t just that biddy I’m worried about. It’s somethin’ deeper.” Mrs. Lear’s clear gaze swept toward the blue-rimmed hills.
Penny and Louise waited for her to go on. After a moment she did.
“Seen a rain crow a settin’ on the fence this morning. There’ll be rain an’ a lot of it. Maybe the dam will hold, an’ again, maybe it won’t.”
“Shouldn’t you move to the hills?” Penny asked anxiously.
Mrs. Lear’s answer was a tight smile, hard as granite.
“Nothin’ on Earth kin move me off this land. Nothin’. If the flood takes my house it’ll take me with it!”
The old lady extended a bony hand and gravely bade each of the girls goodbye.
Penny and Louise rode their horses to the curve of the road and then looked back. Mrs. Lear stood by the gate for all the world like a statue of bronze. They waved a fast farewell but she did not appear to see. Her eyes were raised to the misty hills and she stood thus until the trees blotted her from view.
CHAPTER
13
RAIN
“Somehow I can’t get Old Mrs. Lear out of my mind, Lou. I keep wondering what happened at Red Valley after we left.”
Penny sprawled on the davenport of the Parker home, one blue wedge draped over its rolling upholstered arm. Her chum, Louise, had curled herself kitten fashion in a chair across the room.
A full week now had elapsed since the two girls had returned to Riverview from Red Valley. During that time it had rained nearly every day. Even now, a misty drizzle kept the girls indoors.
“Wonder if it’s raining at Red Valley?” Penny mused.
“Why don’t you tear that place out of your mind?” Louise demanded a bit impatiently. “We tried to solve the mystery and we couldn’t, so let’s forget it.”
“I do try, but I can’t,” Penny sighed. “I keep telling myself Mrs. Lear must be the person who masquerades as the Headless Horseman. Yet I can’t completely accept such a theory.”
“You’ll go batty if you keep on!”
“The worst of it is that everyone laughs at me,” Penny complained. “If I so much as mention the Headless Horseman Dad starts to crack jokes.”
A step sounded on the porch. “Speaking of your father, here he comes now,” Louise observed, and straightened in her chair.
Penny did not bother to undrape herself from the davenport. “‘Lo, Dad,” she greeted her father as he came in. “Aren’t you home early for lunch?”
“I am about half an hour ahead of schedule,” Mr. Parker agreed. He spoke to Louise as he casually dropped an edition of the Riverview Star into his daughter’s hands. “That town of yours has smashed into print, Penny.”
“What town?” Penny’s feet came down from the arm of the davenport and she seized the paper. “Not Red Valley?”
“Red Valley is very much in the news,” Mr. Parker replied. “These rains are weakening the dam and some of the experts are becoming alarmed. They are sending someone up to look it over.”
“Oh, Dad! I tried to tell you!” Penny cried excitedly. With Louise peering over her shoulder, she spread out the front page of the paper and read the story.
“Oh, it hardly tells a thing!” she complained after she had scanned it.
“So far there’s not been much to report,” Mr. Parker replied. “But if the dam should let go—wow! Would that be a story! I’m sending my best staff photographer there to get pictures.”
Penny pricked up her ears. “Salt Sommers?” she demanded.
“Yes, the Star can’t take a chance on being scooped by another paper.”
“Speaking of chances, Lou, this is ours!” Penny cried. “Why don’t we go to Red Valley with Salt?”
“Now just a minute,” interrupted Mr. Parker. “Salt’s going there on business and he’ll have no time for any hocus-pocus. You’ll be a bother to him!”
“A bother to Salt!” Penny protested indignantly. “Why, the very idea!”
“Another thing,” Mr. Parker resumed, “Red Valley isn’t considered the safest place in the world just now. While it’s unlikely the dam will give way, still the possibility exists. If it should, the break will come without warning and there’s apt to be a heavy loss of life.”
“But not mine,” said Penny with great confidence. “Don’t forget that I won three ribbons and a medal this year. Not for being a poor swimmer either.”
“All the same, I shouldn’t be too boastful,” her father advised dryly.
“When is Salt leaving?” Penny demanded.
“Any time now. But I’m sure he won’t let you tag along.”
“We’ll see if we can change his mind,” Penny grinned, reaching for the telephone. Disregarding her father’s frown, she called the photographer at the Star office. Salt was leaving for Red Valley in twenty minutes, and he willingly agreed to take two passengers.
“There, you see!” Penny cried triumphantly, slamming the receiver into its hook.
“I don’t like the idea,” Mr. Parker grumbled. “Let’s hear what Mrs. Weems has to say.”
The housekeeper, it developed, had a great deal to say. Penny, however, was equal to all arguments. So eloquently did she plead her case that Mrs. Weems weakened.
“You’ve wanted an old spinning wheel for months,” Penny reminded her. “While I’m at Red Valley I’ll get one for you.”
“It seems to me I’ve heard that argument before,” Mrs. Weems said dryly.
“I didn’t get a chance to see about it when I was there last time,” Penny hastened on. “This time I’ll make it a point, I promise. I’m pretty sure I can get the one Silas Malcom has.”
“If you must go, please don’t distract Salt with spinning wheels,” Mr. Parker said crossly. “Or Headless Horseman rot. Remember, he has a job to do.”
“Lou and I will help him,” Penny laughed. “Just wait and see!”
In the end, Mr. Parker and Mrs. Weems reluctantly said that Penny might go. Louise obtained permission from her mother to make the trip, and fifteen minutes later the girls were at the Star office. As they entered the wire photo room, a loudspeaker blared forth: “All right, Riverview, go ahead with your fire picture!”
“Goodness, what was that?” Louise exclaimed, startled.
“Only the wire photo dispatcher talking over the loudspeaker from New York,” Penny, chuckled. “We’re about to send a picture out over the network.”
“But how?”
“Watch and see,” Penny advised.
In the center of the room stood two machines with cylinders, one for transmitting pictures to distant stations, the other for receiving them. On the sending cylinder was wrapped a glossy 8 by 10 photograph of a fire. As Penny spoke, an attendant pressed a starter switch on the sending machine. There was a high pitched rasp as the clutch threw in, and the cylinder bearing the picture began to turn at a steady measured pace.
“It’s a complicated process,” Penny said glibly. “A photo electric cell scans the picture and transmits it to all the points on the network. Salt here could tell you more about it.”
“Too busy just now,” grinned the young photographer. He stood beside a cabinet stuffing flashbulbs into his coat pocket. “It’s time we’re traveling.”
Salt grinned in a harassed but friendly way at the girls. He was tall and freckled and not very good looking. Nevertheless, he was the best photographer on the Star.
“I’m afraid we took advantage of you in asking for a ride to Red Valley,” Penny apologized.
“Tickled to have you ride along,” Salt cut in. He picked up his Speed Graphic camera and slung a supply case over his shoulder. “Well, let’s shove off for the wet country.”
The ride by press car to Delta was far from pleasant. Salt drove too fast. The road was slippery once the auto left the pavement and ditches brimmed with brown muddy water.
At one point they were forced to detour five miles to avoid a bridge that had washed out. Instead of reaching Delta early in the day as they had planned, it was well into the afternoon before they arrived.
“Where shall I drop you girls?” Salt inquired wearily. “I’ll have to work fast if I get any pictures this afternoon.”
“Drop us anywhere,” Penny said. “We’ll spend the night with Mrs. Lear and go home by train tomorrow.”
“Wonder which way it is to the Huntley Dam?”
“We’ll show you the road,” Penny offered. “It’s directly on your way to let us off at the Malcom place. I want to stop there to see about a spinning wheel.”
Guided by the two girls, Salt drove up the winding hillside road to Silas Malcom’s little farm. There Penny and Louise said goodbye to him and sought to renew acquaintances with the elderly hillman. The old man got up from a porch rocker to greet them cordially.
“Well! Well! I knowed you’d come back one o’ these days,” he chuckled. “Thank ye mightily fer puttin’ them write-ups about Red Valley in the paper.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t have much to do with it,” Penny said modestly. “Red Valley really is a news center these days.”
“We’re sittin’ on a stick o’ dynamite here,” the old man agreed. “I’m worried about Mrs. Lear. Me and the wife want her to move up here on the hill where she’d be safe, but not that ole gal. She’s as stubborn as a mule.”
“And what of the Burmasters?”
“I ain’t worryin’ none about them. They kin look after themselves. They’re so cock sure there ain’t no danger.”
“Then you feel the situation really is serious?”
Old Silas spat into the grass. “When that dam lets go,” he said, “there ain’t goin’ to be no written notice sent ahead. The Burmaster place will be taken, and then Mrs. Lear’s. After that the water’ll sweep down on Delta faster’n an express train. From there it’ll spread out over the whole valley.”
“But why don’t people move to safety?”
“Down at Delta plenty of ’em are pullin’ up stakes,” Old Silas admitted. “The Burmasters are sittin’ tight though and so is Mrs. Lear.”
“We were planning on staying with her tonight,” Louise contributed uneasily.
“Reckon you’ll be safe enough,” Old Silas assured her. “Water level ain’t been risin’ none in the last ten hours. But if we have another rain above us—look out.”
After chatting a bit longer, Penny broached the matter of the spinning wheel. To her delight, Mr. Malcom not only offered to sell it for a small sum, but he volunteered to haul it to the railroad station for shipment.
The slow, tedious wagon ride down to Delta gave the girls added opportunity to seek information from the old man. Penny deliberately spoke of the Headless Horseman. Had the mysterious rider been seen or heard of in the Valley in recent days?
“You can’t prove it by me,” the old man chuckled. “I been so busy gettin’ in my crops I ain’t had no time fer such goins on.”
Arriving at Delta, Mr. Malcom drove directly to the railroad station.
“Joe Quigley ought to be around here somewhere,” he remarked. “See if you can run him down while I unload this spinnin’ wheel.”
Penny and Louise entered the deserted waiting room of the depot. The door of the little station office was closed and at first glance they thought no one was there. Then they saw Joe Quigley standing with his back toward them. He was engrossed in examining something on the floor, an object that was below their field of vision.
“Hello, Mr. Quigley!” Penny sang out.
The station agent straightened so suddenly that he bumped his head against the ticket counter. He stared at the girls. Then as they moved toward the little window, he hastily gathered up whatever he had been examining. As if fearful that they would see the object, he crammed it into an open office closet and slammed the door.
CHAPTER
14
A MOVING LIGHT
“Well, well,” Joe Quigley greeted the girls cordially. “It’s good to see you again. When did you blow into town?”
Louise and Penny came close to the ticket window. They were curious as to what the young station agent had hidden in the closet. However, they did not disclose by look or action that they suspected anything was wrong.
“We drove in about an hour ago,” Penny replied carelessly. “We want to ship a spinning wheel by freight to Riverview.”
“I’d advise you to send it by express,” Quigley said briskly. “That way you’ll have it delivered to your door and the difference will be trifling.”
“Any way you say,” Penny agreed.
Joe went outside with the girls. Silas already had unloaded the spinning wheel. He turned it over to the station agent and after a bit of goodnatured joshing, drove away.
“I can get this out for you on No. 73,” Joe promised the girls. “Come on back to the office while I bill it out.”
Penny and Louise followed the station agent into the little ticket room. Their ears were assailed by the chatter of several telegraph instruments mounted around the edge of a circular work desk.
“How many wires come in here?” Penny asked curiously.
“Three. The Dispatcher’s wire, Western Union and the Message wire.”
Penny listened attentively to the staccato chatter of one of the wires. “D-A, D-A,” she said aloud. “Would that be the Delta station call?”
“It is,” Quigley agreed, giving her a quick look of surprise.
He sat down at the circular desk and reached for the telegraph key. After tapping out a swift, brief message, he closed the circuit.
“Get that?” he grinned at Penny.
She shook her head ruefully. “I learned the Morse code and that’s about all,” she confessed. “I used to practice on a homemade outfit Dad fixed up for me.”
“Quite a gal!” Quigley said admiringly. “What can’t you do?”
This was Penny’s opportunity and she seized it. “Quite a number of things,” she answered. “For one, I can’t solve a certain mystery that plagues me.”
Joe Quigley finished making out the way bill. His eyes danced as he handed Penny her receipt.
“So you admit that you’ve met your Waterloo in our Galloping Ghost?”
“I admit nothing,” Penny retorted. “You could help me if you would!”
“How?”
“I’m sure you know the person who has been causing the Burmasters so much trouble.”
“Trouble?” Quigley’s eyebrows jerked. “The way I look at it, that Headless Horseman may do ’em a good turn. He may actually save their worthless necks by driving them out of the valley.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that Burmaster can’t keep on in his bull headed fashion without bringing tragedy upon himself as well as the valley. Even now it’s probably too late to reinforce the dam.”
“Then what does your prankster hope to gain?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” Joe Quigley shrugged. “This is the way I look at it. Mrs. Lear and the Burmasters are deep in a feud. The old lady lost the deed to her place and she figures if she moves off, the Burmasters somehow will take advantage of her.”
“They’ve made no attempt to do so?”
“Not yet. But old Mrs. Lear is convinced Mrs. Burmaster is biding her time.”
“It all sounds rather silly.”
“Maybe it does to an outsider. But this is the serious part. If the dam should let go there’d be no chance to warn either the Burmasters or Mrs. Lear. Both places should be evacuated.”
“Then why isn’t it done?”
“Because two stubborn women refuse to listen to reason. Mrs. Burmaster won’t budge because she says there’s no danger—that it’s a scheme to get her out of the valley. Mrs. Lear won’t leave her home while the Burmasters stay.”
“What’s to be done?”
“Ask me something easy.” The telegraph instrument was chattering the Delta station call again so Quigley turned to answer it. “If you see Mrs. Lear before you leave here, try to reason with her,” he tossed over his shoulder. “I’ve given up.”
The girls nodded goodbye and went outside. Silas Malcom’s wagon was nowhere to be seen, and after a brief debate they decided to walk to Mrs. Lear’s place.
“Maybe we still can catch a ride home with Salt,” Louise remarked dubiously. “With all this talk about the dam, I certainly don’t relish spending a night in the valley.”
“Oh, Silas said there was no immediate danger unless it rains again,” Penny reminded her chum. “What Joe Quigley said about Mrs. Lear worries me. We must try to get her to leave the valley.”
“Why not move a mountain?” Louise countered. “It would be a lot easier.”
When the girls reached Mrs. Lear’s cabin they discovered that word of their arrival in Delta had traveled ahead of them.
“Your room’s all ready fer you,” the old lady beamed as she greeted them at the door. “This time I hope you’re stayin’ fer a week.”
Nothing seemed changed at the Lear cabin. Mrs. Lear had spent the morning canning fruit, and the kitchen table was loaded with containers. A washing flapped lazily on the line. While waiting for the clothes to dry, the old lady filled in her time by sewing on a rag rug of elaborate pattern.
“I’m a mite behind in my work,” she confessed to her young visitors. “These infernal rains set a body back. Fer three days I couldn’t get my washin’ hung, an’ I never will git my corn dried less I do it in the oven.”
“Speaking of rain,” Penny began hesitantly, “Don’t you think it’s dangerous to remain here much longer?”
“Maybe it is, maybe it ain’t,” the old lady retorted. “Either way I’m not worryin’. There ain’t nothin’ going to put me off my place—not even a flood.”
“Joe Quigley thinks that you and the Burmasters both should move to a safer place.”
“Then let ’em go fust,” Mrs. Lear declared. “Didn’t Mrs. Burmaster steal the deed to my land jest fer meanness and spite? If I was dumb enough to leave this place fer an hour she’d find some way to git it away from me.”
“That couldn’t be done so easily,” smiled Penny. “After all, Mr. Burmaster has more sense than his wife. Did you never talk to him about the missing deed?”
“We had words,” Mrs. Lear said with emphasis. “’Course he stood up fer his wife—said she’d never do such a thing. But I know better!”
“Yet since the deed disappeared no one has tried to put you off your land.”
“That’s cause the Burmasters are waitin’ their chance. Oh, they’re sly and cunning. But I’m jest as smart as they are, and they’ll never git me off this place!”
The discussion, Penny felt, was traveling in the same familiar circle. One could not influence Mrs. Lear. Her mind had been made up. Nothing would move her.
Thinking that they might at least talk matters over with Mr. Burmaster, the girls presently walked down the road to Sleepy Hollow estate. A workman who was busy with hammer and saw told them that Mr. and Mrs. Burmaster had motored to Delta for the afternoon.