she heard the barn door close. She rushed to the window. Old Lady Lear,
riding with an easy grace that belied her years, was walking Trinidad
toward the road.
"Now where's she going?" Penny demanded, seizing Louise by the hand.
"Come on, or we'll never learn!"
Clattering down the stairs, they reached the yard in time to see Mrs.
Lear riding into the woods.
"Know what I think?" Louise asked breathlessly. "She's the one who's been
pulling off these Headless Horseman stunts!"
"Someone signaled to her from the woods," Penny reminded her chum. "She's
starting off to meet whoever flashed the lantern!"
To attempt to follow the old lady afoot seemed a foolish thing to do.
Nevertheless, Penny was convinced that Mrs. Lear would not ride far into
the woods. She argued that a golden opportunity would be lost forever if
they did not try to learn where she went.
"Then come on if we must do it!" Louise consented. "It won't be easy to
keep her in sight though."
In their haste the girls had provided themselves with no light. Nor had
they imagined that a night could be so dark. Once among the trees they
had difficulty in keeping to the trail that old Mrs. Lear had chosen.
"Let's turn back," Louise pleaded. "We're apt to get lost."
Penny, however, was stubbornly determined to learn the old lady's
destination. Though she could not see Trinidad she could hear the
crashing of underbrush only a short distance ahead.
"Penny, I can't keep on!" Louise gasped a moment later. "I'm winded."
"You're scared," Penny amended. "Well, so am I. But it's just as easy to
go on now as it is to turn back."
The trail Mrs. Lear had taken led at a steep angle uphill. The old lady
allowed her horse to take his time. Even so, the girls were hard pressed
to keep fairly close.
"Listen!" Penny presently commanded in a whisper.
No longer could they hear the sound of Trinidad's hoofbeats.
"We've lost her," Louise said anxiously.
"I think Mrs. Lear has stopped," Penny replied, keeping her voice low.
"Perhaps she heard us and suspects that we followed her."
More cautiously than before, the girls moved forward. It was well that
they did, for unexpectedly they came to a brook and a clearing. Mrs. Lear
had dismounted and tied Trinidad to an elm tree close to the water's
edge.
Huddling behind a clump of bushes, the girls waited and watched. Mrs.
Lear did not appear to be expecting anyone. She gave Trinidad a friendly
pat. Then making certain that he was securely fastened to the tree,
walked briskly toward the girls.
Penny and Louise cringed closer to the ground. The old lady passed them
and went on down the trail.
"You stay here and keep watch of Trinidad!" Penny instructed. "I'll
follow Mrs. Lear."
Louise did not want to remain alone. She started to say so, but Penny was
gone.
The moment her chum had vanished from sight, sheer panic took possession
of Louise. An owl hooted. The cry sent icy chills racing down the girl's
spine.
Tensely she listened. She was certain she could hear footsteps
approaching the brook. Suddenly she lost all interest in solving the
mystery. Her one desire was to get safely out of the woods. Shamelessly,
she turned and fled.
Penny, doggedly following Mrs. Lear, was startled to hear a crashing of
the bushes behind her. As she paused, Louise came running up.
"What is it?" Penny demanded. "Did someone come for Trinidad?"
"I don't know, and I don't care!" Louise answered grimly. "Call me a
coward if you like--I'll not stay by myself!"
Penny did not chide her chum, though she was disappointed. A moment's
thought convinced her that since Louise was unwilling to remain by the
brook, it now would be better for them both to trail Mrs. Lear. If they
were not to lose her, they must hasten along.
"Where do you think the old lady is going?" Louise presently asked as
they stumbled over a vine-clogged trail. "Not back home."
"No," Penny agreed in a whisper, "we're going in the wrong direction for
that."
Unexpectedly, the girls emerged into a clearing, Not daring to cross the
open space lest Mrs. Lear see them, they huddled at the fringe of trees.
Overhead, dark clouds scudded and boiled; a strengthening wind whipped
their clothing about them.
Mrs. Lear moved spryly across the open space. Pausing near the edge of a
cliff, she crouched beside a huge boulder. Grasping a bush for support,
she peered down into the valley.
"We may be directly above Sleepy Hollow estate!" Penny whispered
excitedly. "Let's try to get closer and see!"
Treading cautiously over the sodden leaves, the girls made a wide circle
along the edge of trees. Keeping a safe distance from Mrs. Lear, they
peered down over the rim of the valley. As Penny had guessed, Sleepy
Hollow was to be seen below. A light, dimly visible, burned on the lower
floor of the dwelling. They barely were able to discern the long, narrow
bridge spanning the mill pond.
"Now why do you suppose Mrs. Lear came here at this time of night?"
Louise speculated. "Do you think--"
Penny gave her chum a quick little jab. From far away she had caught the
sound of approaching hoofbeats.
"The Headless Horseman!" Louise whispered in awe.
"We'll soon see. Mrs. Lear is waiting for something!"
Minutes elapsed. Penny began to doubt that she had heard an approaching
horseman. Then suddenly he emerged from a thicket that edged the valley
road. The rider was garbed in white which plainly silhouetted his huge,
misshapen body. Where his head should have been there was nothing.
The sight of such an apparition did not seem to dismay old Mrs. Lear. The
old lady leaned farther over the cliff, fairly hugging herself with
delight.
Having gained the road leading to Sleepy Hollow, the horseman came on at
a swift pace. Sparks flew from the steel shod hoofs as they clipped
smartly on the stones.
Penny's gaze swept ahead of the ghost rider to the bridge. Her heart
leaped. Even as the horseman rode onto the structure, workmen sprang from
the thickets at either side of the road. High wooden barriers were jerked
into place at both ends of the bridge. The Headless Horseman's retreat
was cut off.
"They've got him!" Penny whispered tensely. "He's trapped on the bridge!"
The horse faltered for an instant and slackened speed. Then as the
mysterious rider apparently urged him on, he bore down on the barrier
blocking the bridge's exit.
"He's going to try to jump!" Louise murmured. "But no one could take such
a high barrier!"
Nervously the girls watched. By this time they were certain that the
horse was Trinidad. Magnificent though he was, age had crept upon him,
and the wooden gate could prove a difficult test for a trained jumper.
If Penny and Louise were tense, Mrs. Lear was even more so. "Take it,
Trinidad!" they heard her mutter. "Over!"
Trinidad did not falter. Approaching the barrier at full tilt, he
gathered his strength, and cleared the structure in a beautiful, clean
leap. The startled workmen, amazed at the feat, fell back out of the way.
Only one made any attempt to stop the rider. The Headless Horseman
plunged his gallant steed through a gap in the trees and was gone.
"You did it Trinidad!" cackled Mrs. Lear. "You showed 'em!"
Stooping to pick up a pebble, the old lady hurled it contemptuously
toward the bridge. Her aim though carelessly taken was surprisingly good.
The stone fell with a loud, resounding thud on the bridge planks.
"Let 'em wonder where that came from!" the old lady chuckled gleefully.
"Let 'em wonder."
Wrapping her black coat about her, she quickly retreated into the woods.
CHAPTER
16
_A FRUITLESS SEARCH_
"We'll give Mrs. Lear a little start and then follow," Penny instructed.
"Undoubtedly she'll return to the brook to meet the Headless Horseman."
"Then you believe she's been behind the scheme from the first?" Louise
asked, backing away from the cliff's crumbling edge. Below, on the
grounds of Sleepy Hollow, men roved about with lighted lanterns.
Apparently no very vigorous effort was being made to pursue the
mysterious rider into the woods.
"Who else?" Penny countered. "At least she's been a party to it."
"But she's not actually the rider. We know that."
"She certainly knows the identity of the man," Penny said with
conviction. "And we should too before the night's over. Come on!"
Fearful lest Mrs. Lear get too much of a start, the girls set off in
pursuit. However, they had not gone far before they realized that the old
lady was not returning to the brook. Instead she seemed to be heading for
home.
"We didn't figure this so well after all!" Penny observed in deep
disgust. "Now it's too late to go back to the brook, so we've lost our
chance to learn who the fellow is."
"Maybe not," Louise said cheerfully. "Someone will have to bring Trinidad
home."
They had now reached the main road with Mrs. Lear's cabin visible over
the hill. Not once glancing over her shoulder, the old lady trod a muddy
path to her own gate. Once inside the grounds, she peered up at the
windows of the bedroom Penny and Louise had occupied. Satisfied that no
light was burning, she quietly entered the house.
The two girls waited for awhile in the woods. They thought it wise to
give the old lady ample time to go to bed and fall asleep.
"Come on, we've waited long enough," Penny said at last.
They crossed the road and stole to the front door. To their astonishment
it was locked. The back door also was fastened from the inside.
"We'll have to try a window," Penny proposed.
The windows also were locked or so stuck by dampness that they could not
be budged.
"If this isn't a pretty mess!" Penny exclaimed impatiently. "Mrs. Lear
never used to lock anything. She must have started doing it since the
deed to her property disappeared."
"What are we going to do? Sleep in the barn?"
"That might not be such a bad idea. Then if Trinidad ever comes home we'd
be able to see who rode him!"
"You'll have to get another idea!" Louise retorted. "That old barn has
rats and mice. I wouldn't sleep there for a million dollars."
Penny circled the house, searching for a way out of the difficulty. She
could find no ladder. A rose trellis rising along the front wall
suggested that if they could use it to reach the second story, they might
creep along the porch roof to their own room. There at least, the window
had been left unlocked.
"It looks flimsy," Penny said, testing the structure. "I'll try it
first."
Gingerly she climbed the trellis, trying to avoid the thorns of a
withered rose plant. She reached the porch roof and skillfully rolled
onto it. From there she motioned for her chum to follow.
Louise was heavier than Penny and less adept at climbing. The rose bush
tore at her clothing and wounded her arms. Just as she was reaching for
Penny's outstretched hand one of the cross pieces gave way. Startled,
Louise let out a scream of terror.
"Now you've done it!" Penny muttered, pulling her by brute force onto the
porch. "Mrs. Lear's deaf if she didn't hear that!"
Tiptoeing with frantic haste across the porch roof, they tested the
window of their bedroom. It raised easily. But as they scrambled over the
sill, the girls were dismayed to hear Mrs. Lear's door open farther down
the hall.
"She heard us!" Louise whispered tensely. "Now what'll we do?"
"Into bed and cover up!" Penny ordered.
Not even taking time to remove their shoes, they made a dive for the big
four-poster bed. Scarcely had they pulled the coverlet up to their ears
than they heard Mrs. Lear just outside the door.
"Are you all right?" she called anxiously. "I thought I heard a scream."
The girls did not answer. They closed their eyes and pretended to be
asleep. Mrs. Lear opened the door and peeped inside. Not entirely
satisfied she crossed the room and stood for a moment at the open window.
Closing it half way, she then tiptoed out the door.
"Was that a close call!" Penny whispered, sitting up in bed. "Lucky for
us she didn't notice anything wrong."
Waiting a few minutes longer, the girls slid from beneath the covers and
quickly undressed.
"At least we learned one important thing tonight," Penny observed,
quietly lowering a shoe to the floor. "Mrs. Lear is behind this Headless
Horseman escapade. But who is the fellow?"
"Silas Malcom perhaps. Only he's a bit too old for pranks."
Penny did not reply. Moving to the window, she gazed thoughtfully toward
the barn.
"Someone may bring Trinidad back," she commented. "By watching--"
"Not for me," Louise cut in. She rolled back into bed. "I'm going to get
myself a little shut-eye before dawn."
Penny drew a chair up to the window. The room was cold. Her chair was
straight-backed and hard. Minutes dragged by and still Trinidad did not
put in an appearance.
"The horse may not come back tonight," Penny thought, covering a yawn.
"Guess I'll jump into bed. I can hear just as well from there."
She snuggled in beside Louise and enjoyed the warmth of the covers. A
delightful drowsiness took possession of her. Though she struggled to
stay awake, her eyelids became heavier and heavier.
Presently Penny slept. She slept soundly. When she awakened, the first
rays of morning light were seeping in through the window. But it was not
the sun that had aroused her from slumber. As she stirred drowsily, she
became aware of an unusual sound. At first she could not place it. Then
she realized that someone was pounding on the downstairs screen door.
Penny nudged Louise. When that did not arouse her, she gave her a
vigorous shake.
"What now?" Louise mumbled crossly.
"Wake up! Someone's downstairs pounding on the screen door."
"Let 'em pound." Louise rolled away from her chum's grasp and tried to go
back to sleep.
The thumping noise was repeated, louder and more insistent. Penny was
sure she heard the rumble of many voices. Thoroughly puzzled, she swung
out of bed and reached for a robe.
"Open up!" called a man's voice from below.
Penny ran to the window. The porch roof half obstructed her view, but in
the yard she could see at least half a dozen men. Others were at the
door, hammering to be let in.
By this time the thumpings had thoroughly awakened Louise. She too
deserted the bed and went to the window.
"Something's wrong!" she exclaimed. "Just see that mob of men! I'll
warrant they're here to make trouble for Mrs. Lear--perhaps because of
what happened last night!"
CHAPTER
17
_ACCUSATIONS_
Penny and Louise scrambled into their clothes. As they pulled on their
shoes, they heard Mrs. Lear going down the hall. Fearful lest she
encounter trouble, they hastened to overtake her before she reached the
front door.
"Do you think it's safe to let those men in?" Penny ventured dubiously.
"Why shouldn't I open the door?" Mrs. Lear demanded. "I've nothing to
hide."
She gazed sharply at Penny, who suddenly was at a loss for words.
Mrs. Lear swung wide the door to face the group of men on the porch. Joe
Quigley was there and so was Silas Malcom. Seeing friends, Penny and
Louise felt reassured.
"Well?" demanded Mrs. Lear, though not in an unfriendly tone. "What's the
meaning of waking a body up in the middle o' the night?"
"Word just came in by radio," Joe Quigley spoke up. "There's been a big
rain over Goshen way."
"I could have told you that last night," Mrs. Lear replied, undisturbed.
"Knew it when I seen them big clouds bilin' up."
"You oughter get out o' here right away," added Silas Malcom. "That dam
at Huntley Lake ain't safe no more, and when all that water comes down
from Goshen it ain't too likely she'll hold."
"Are the people of Delta leaving for the hills?" Mrs. Lear asked coldly.
"Some are," Quigley assured her. "We're urging everyone who can to take
the morning train. A few stubborn ones like yourself refuse to budge."
"Oh, so I'm stubborn! I suppose you're leaving, Joe Quigley?"
"That's different. I have a job to do and I can't desert my post at the
depot."
"And the Burmasters? Are they leaving?"
"We're on our way up to the estate now to warn them."
"I'll make you a bargain," Mrs. Lear agreed, a hard glint in her eye. "If
Mrs. Burmaster goes, then I'll go too. But so long as she stays in this
valley I'm not stirrin' one inch!"
"You're both as stubborn as one of Silas' mules!" Joe Quigley said
impatiently. "Don't you realize that your life is in danger?"
"When you've lived as long as I have, young man, life ain't so precious
as some other things."
"If you won't listen to reason yourself, what about these girls?" Quigley
turned toward Penny and Louise.
Mrs. Lear's face became troubled. "They'll have to go at once," she
decided. "What time's that train out o' Delta?"
"Eleven-forty," Joe Quigley replied. "Or they can catch it at Witch Falls
at eleven. Getting on at that station they might find seats."
"We'll pack our things right away," Louise promised, starting for the
stairs.
Penny followed reluctantly. Though she realized that it would be
foolhardy to remain, she did not want to leave Red Valley. Particularly
she disliked to desert old Mrs. Lear.
"If Mrs. Lear is determined to stay here, what can we do about it?"
Louise argued reasonably. "You know our folks wouldn't want us to
remain."
The girls quickly gathered their belongings together and went downstairs
again. To their surprise Mrs. Lear had put on her coat and was preparing
to accompany the men to Sleepy Hollow.
"I ain't leavin' fer good," she announced, observing Penny's astonished
gaze. "Leastwise, not unless the Burmasters do. I'm going there now to
see what they've got to say."
"Come along if you like," one of the men invited the girls. "Maybe you
can help persuade them to leave the valley."
Penny and Louise doubted that they would be of any assistance whatsoever.
However, it was several hours before train time, so they were very glad
indeed to ride in one of the cars to Sleepy Hollow estate. At the
crossroad Joe Quigley turned back to Delta for he was scheduled to go on
duty at the railroad station. The others kept on until they reached the
estate.
Silas Malcom rapped sharply on the front door. In a moment a light went
on in an upstairs room. A few minutes later a window opened and Mr.
Burmaster, clad in pajamas, peered down.
"What's wanted?" he demanded angrily.
"There's been a big rain above us," he was told. "Everyone's being
advised to get out while there's time."
Mr. Burmaster was silent a moment. Then he said: "Wait a minute until I
dress. We'll talk about it."
Ten minutes elapsed before the estate owner opened the front door and
bade the group enter. He led the party into a luxuriously furnished
living room.
"Now what is all this?" Mr. Burmaster asked. "We had one disturbance here
last night and it seems to me that's about enough."
Silas Malcom explained the situation, speaking quietly but with force.
"And who says that the dam won't hold?" Mr. Burmaster interrupted.
"Well, it's the opinion of them that's been workin' on it for the past
two weeks. If we'd had money and enough help--"
"So that's why you rooted me out of bed!"
"We came here to do you a favor!" one of the men retorted angrily. "It's
too late to save the dam unless nature sees fit to spare her. But it
ain't too late for you and your household to get out of here."
"I have two hundred thousand dollars sunk in this place."
"That's a heap o' money," Silas said thoughtfully. "But it ain't going to
mean anything to you if that dam lets go. You ought to leave here without
waitin'."
"Perhaps you're right," Mr. Burmaster said, pacing back and forth in
front of the fireplace. "It was my judgment that the dam would hold.
Naturally no one could predict these heavy, unseasonable rains."
A door opened. Everyone turned to see Mrs. Burmaster on the threshold.
Her hair was uncombed and she wore a brilliant red housecoat.
"Who are these people?" she asked her husband in a cold voice.
"Villagers. They've come to warn us that we ought to leave here."
"Warn us, indeed!" Mrs. Burmaster retorted bitterly. "I don't know what
they've said to you, but it's just another scheme to get us away from
here! Haven't they tried everything?"
"This ain't no Headless Horseman scare, Ma'am," spoke Silas Malcom. "The
Huntley dam is likely to give way at any minute."
"I've heard that for weeks!" Mrs. Burmaster's gaze was scornful. "Oh, I
know you've hated us ever since we built this house! You've tried every
imaginable trick to make us leave."
"That ain't true, ma'am," Silas replied soberly.
Mrs. Burmaster's angry gaze swept the group and came to rest on Mrs.
Lear.
"That old witch who lives down the road has set you all against me!" she
fairly screamed. "She's lied and fought me at every turn!"
Mrs. Lear detached herself from the group. She spoke quietly but with
suppressed fury.
"I've stood a lot from you in the past, Mrs. Burmaster," she retorted.
"But there ain't no one alive can call me a witch!"
"Oh, I can't?" Mrs. Burmaster mocked. "Well, you're worse than an old
witch!"
"At least I ain't a sneak thief! I don't go breakin' into folks' houses
to steal the deed to their property!"
"How dare you accuse me of such a thing!"
"Because I know you got the deed to my cabin right here in the house!"
Mrs. Lear accused. "You've got it hid away!"
"That's a lie!"
"Ladies! Ladies!" remonstrated one of the men from the village.
Mrs. Lear paid not the slightest heed. Advancing toward Mrs. Burmaster,
she waved a bony finger at her.
"So it's a lie, is it?" she cackled. "Well, let me tell you this! Mary
Gibson that worked out here as maid until last Wednesday saw that deed o'
mine in your bureau drawer. She told me herself!"
"How dare you say such a thing!" gasped Mrs. Burmaster.
Mr. Burmaster stepped between his wife and Mrs. Lear.
"Enough of this!" he said firmly, "We know nothing about the deed to your
property, Mrs. Lear."
"Then prove that it ain't here!" the old lady challenged. "Look in your
wife's bureau drawer and see!"
"Certainly. Since you have made such an accusation we shall by all means
disprove it."
As Mr. Burmaster started toward the circular stairway, his wife caught
nervously at his arm.
"No, John! Don't be so weak as to give in to her!"
"Mrs. Lear has made a very serious accusation against you. We must prove
to all these people that she misjudged you."
"You can't search--you mustn't! It's insulting to me!"
"But my dear--"
"I'll never speak to you again if you do! Never!"
Mr. Burmaster hesitated, not knowing what to do. "So you're afraid to
look?" Mrs. Lear needled him.
"No, I'm not afraid," the estate owner said with sudden decision.
"Furthermore, I want someone to accompany me as witness." His gaze swept
the little group and singled out Penny. "Will you come?"
Penny did not wish to be drawn into the feud, but as the others urged her
to accompany Mr. Burmaster, she reluctantly agreed.
Mrs. Burmaster's bedroom was a luxurious chamber directly above the
living room. There was a canopied bed with beautiful hangings and a
dressing table that fairly took Penny's breath away.
"There's the bureau," said Mr. Burmaster, pointing to another massive
piece of furniture. "Suppose you search."
Rather reluctantly, Penny opened the top drawer. It was filled with lace
handkerchiefs, and neat boxes of stockings. The second drawer contained
silk lingerie while the third was filled with odds and ends.
"So it's not there!" Mr. Burmaster exclaimed in relief as Penny
straightened from her task. "I was sure it wouldn't be!"
From the tone of his voice it was evident that he had been very much
afraid the deed would be found. Penny's eyes wandered toward the dressing
table.
"You may as well search there too," Mr. Burmaster said. "Then there can
be no further accusations."
One by one Penny opened the drawers of the dressing table. Mrs.
Burmaster's jewel box caught her eye. It was filled to overflowing with
bracelets, pins, and valuable necklaces. Just behind the big silver box,
another object drew her attention. At a glance she knew that it was a
legal document. As she picked it up she saw that it was the deed to Mrs.
Lear's property.
"What's that?" Mr. Burmaster demanded sharply when Penny did not speak.
Without answering, she gave him the document.
"It is the deed!" he exclaimed, dumbfounded. "Then my wife did steal it
from Mrs. Lear! But why--why would she do such a thing?"
"I'm sure she didn't realize--"
"Mrs. Burmaster is a sick woman, a very sick woman," the estate owner
said unhappily. "But what must I do?"
"What can you do except go downstairs and tell the truth?"
"Face them all? Admit that my wife is a thief?"
"It seems to me that the only honorable thing is to return the deed to
Mrs. Lear."
"The deed must be returned," Mr. Burmaster acknowledged. "But not
tonight--later."
"I realize that you wish to protect your wife," Penny said quietly. "It's
natural. But Mrs. Lear has to be considered."
"I'll pay you handsomely to keep quiet about this," Mr. Burmaster said.
"Furthermore, I'll promise to return the deed to Mrs. Lear tomorrow."
Penny shook her head.
"Very well then," Mr. Burmaster sighed. "I suppose I must face them. I
don't mind for myself. It's my wife I'm worried about. She's apt to go
into hysterics."
Tramping down the stairs, the estate owner confronted the little group of
villagers. In a few words he acknowledged that the deed had been found,
apologized to Mrs. Lear, and placed the document in her hands. Throughout
the speech Mrs. Burmaster stood as one stricken. Her face flushed as red
as the robe she wore, then became deathly white.
"I thank you, Mr. Burmaster, you're an honorable man," Mrs. Lear said
stiffly. "I feel mighty sorry fer the way things turned out. Maybe--"
"Oh, yes, everyone can see that you're sorry!" Mrs. Burmaster broke in
shrilly. "You're a hateful, scheming old hag. Now get out of my house!
Get out all of you and never come back!"
"About the dam--" Silas Malcom started to say.
"The dam!" Mrs. Burmaster screamed. "Let it break! I wish it would! Then
I'd never see any of you again! Go on--get out! Do you hear me? Get out!"
The little group retreated toward the door. Mrs. Burmaster did not wait
to see the villagers leave. Weeping hysterically, she ran from the room.
CHAPTER
18
_FLOOD WATERS_
Rain splattered steadily against the car windows as the noon passenger
train pulled from the Witch Falls station. Penny and Louise watched the
plump drops join into fat rivulets which raced one another to the sill.
Since saying goodbye to Mrs. Lear, Silas Malcom, and their other valley
friends, they had not done much talking. They felt too discouraged.
"I wish we'd decided to catch the train at Delta," Penny remarked,
settling herself for the long ride home. "Then we could have said goodbye
to Joe Quigley. We'll be passing through the station soon."
Louise nodded morosely.
"Things certainly ended in one grand mess," she commented. "Mrs. Lear got
the deed to her property back, but the feud will be worse than ever now.
Furthermore, we never did solve the Headless Horseman mystery--not that
it matters."
Reaching for a discarded newspaper which lay on the coach seat, Penny
shot her chum a quick, knowing look.
"Just what does that mean?" Louise demanded alertly.
Penny pretended not to understand.
"You gave me one of those wise-owl looks!" Louise accused. "Just as if
you _had_ solved the mystery."
"I assure you I haven't, and never will now that we're leaving the
valley."
"But you do have an idea who was back of the scheme?"
"Mrs. Lear, of course. We saw that much with our own eyes."
"But we didn't learn who actually rode the horse. Or did you?"
"Not exactly."
"You do know then!"
"No," Penny denied soberly. "I noticed something about the rider that
made me think--but then I'd better not say it."
"Please go on."
"No, I have no proof. It would only be a guess."
"I think you're mean to keep me in the dark," Louise pouted.
"Maybe I'll tell you my theory later," Penny replied, opening the
newspaper. "Just now, I'm not in the mood."
Both girls had been strangely depressed by their last few hours in the
valley. Mrs. Lear had refused to come with them or to seek refuge in the
hills. Gleeful at her victory over Mrs. Burmaster, she had seemed
insensible to danger.
"Look at this headline," Penny said, indicating the black type of the
newspaper. "FLOOD MENACES RED VALLEY!"
Quickly the girls scanned the story. The account mentioned no facts new
to them. It merely repeated that residents of the valley were alarmed by
heavy up-state rains which had raised Lake Huntley to a dangerous height
behind the dam.
"Wonder if Salt got any good pictures when he was here yesterday?" Penny
mused. "Probably not. This is the sort of news story that doesn't amount
to much unless the big calamity falls."
"You don't think the dam actually will give way?" Louise asked anxiously.
"How should I know? Even the experts can't agree."
"At any rate we're leaving here, and I'm glad. Somehow, I've had an
uneasy feeling ever since last night."
Penny nodded and glanced from the car window again. Rain kept splashing
fiercely against the thick pane, half obscuring the distant hills. Along
the right of way, muddy water ran in deep torrents, washing fence and
hedgerow.
As the train snailed along toward Delta, there was increasing evidence of
flood damage. A row of shacks near the railroad tracks was half
submerged. Along the creek beds, giant trees bowed their branches to the
swirling water. Many landmarks were completely blotted out.
"We're coming into Delta now," Penny presently observed. "Perhaps if we
watch sharp we'll see Joe Quigley and can say goodbye."
The train stopped with a jerk while still some distance from the station.
Then it pulled to a siding and there it waited. After ten minutes Penny
sauntered through the train, thinking that if she could find an open
door, she might get out and walk to the depot. Stopping a porter who was
passing through the car, she asked him the cause of the delay.
"We'se waitin' fo' ordehs," the colored man answered. "Anyhow, dat's what
de cap'n says."
"The captain?"
"The conducteh o' dis heah train."
"Oh! And what does he say about the high water?"
"He says de track between heah and Hobostein's a foot undeh."
"Then that means the river must be coming up fast. Any danger we'll be
stranded at Delta?"
"You betteh talk to de conductor," the porter said, jerking his head
toward a fat, bespectacled trainman who had just swung aboard the coach.
"Dat's Mr. Johnson."
Penny stopped the conductor to ask him what the chances were of getting
through the flooded area.
"Doesn't look so good," he rumbled. "The rails are under at Mile Posts
792 and 825."
"Then we're tied up here?"
"No, we're going as far as we can," the conductor answered. "The
dispatcher's sending a work train on ahead to feel out the track. But
we'll be lucky to make ten miles an hour."
Penny chatted with the conductor for a few minutes, then ambled back to
the coach where she had left Louise. The prospects were most
discouraging. At best it would be late afternoon before they could hope
to reach Riverview.
"I'm starving too," Louise said. "I suppose there's no diner on this
train."
As a stop gap the girls hailed a passing vendor and bought candy bars.
Having thus satisfied their hunger, they tried to read magazines.
Presently the car started with a jerk. However, instead of proceeding
toward the station it backed into the railroad yard.
"Now what?" Penny demanded impatiently. "Aren't we ever going to start?"
The porter hastened through the car, his manner noticeably nervous and
tense. He paid no heed to a woman passenger who sought to detain him.
"Something's wrong!" Penny said with conviction.
"A wash-out, do you think?"
"Might be. Let's see what we can learn."
With a vague feeling of foreboding they could not have explained, the
girls arose and followed the porter. Something was amiss. They were
certain of it.
Losing sight of the colored man, they kept on until they reached the rear
platform. Penny started to open the screen door. Just then the train
whistle sounded a shrill, unending blast.
Startled, Louise gripped her chum's hand, listening tensely.
In the car behind, they heard the conductor's husky voice. He was
shouting: "Run! Run, for your lives! Take to the hills!"
Penny was stunned for an instant. Then seizing Louise's arm, she pulled
her out on the train platform. At first glance nothing appeared wrong.
The tracks were well above the river level. Between the road bed and a
high hill on the left, flood water was running like a mill race, but the
ditch was narrow and represented no immediate danger.
"Listen!" Penny cried.
From far away there came a deep, rumbling roar not unlike the sound of
distant thunder.
Leaning far over the train platform railing, Penny gazed up the tracks.
The sight which met her eyes left her momentarily paralyzed.
Down the valley charged a great wall of water, taking everything before
it. Trees had been mowed down. Crushed houses were being carried along
like children's blocks. Far up the track a switch engine was lifted
bodily from the rails and hurled backwards.
Penny waited to see no more.
"The dam's given away!" she shouted. "Quick, Louise! Climb over the
railing and run for your life!"
CHAPTER
19
_TRAGEDY_
Leaping over the platform railing, Penny held up her arms to assist
Louise. Now awakened to danger, her chum scrambled wildly after her only
to stop aghast as she beheld the gigantic wall of water rushing toward
them.
"Jump the ditch and make for the hill!" Penny ordered tersely. "Be
quick!"
Passengers were pouring from the other cars, their terrified cries
drowned by the grinding roar of the onrushing torrent. The wall of water
moved with incredible speed. It tore into the railroad yard, shattering a
tool house and a coal dock. It roared on, sweeping a row of empty box
cars into its maw.
Spurred by the sight, Penny and Louise tried to leap the ditch. They fell
far short and both plunged into the boiling water up to their arm pits.
Penny's feet anchored solidly. With a gigantic shove, she helped Louise
to safety. By swimming with the current she then reached shore a few
yards farther down the railroad right of way.
"Run!" she shouted to the bewildered, bedraggled Louise. "Up the hill!"
Scrambling over the muddy edge of the ditch, she raced after her chum for
higher ground. Just then the wall of water swept into the siding. As the
train was struck it seemed to shudder from the terrific impact, then
slowly settled on its side.
"Horrible!" Louise shuddered. "Some of the passengers may have been
trapped in there!"
"Most of them escaped," Penny gasped. "There goes the water tower!"
A building borne by the flood, rammed into the ironwork of the big
dripping tower. It crumpled, falling with a great, shuddering splash.
With the back-wash of the flood sloshing against their knees, the girls
raced for high ground. Reaching a point midway up the hill where other
passengers had paused, they turned to glance below. Yellow, angry water,
rising easily ten feet, flowed over the railroad right of way.
With unbelievable speed the flood rolled on. In one angry gulp it reached
a long freight train farther down the track. The caboose and a string of
coal cars were lifted and hurled. Strangely, the coal tender and engine
which had been detached, remained on the rails.
"Oh, look!" Louise gasped in horror. "The engineer's trapped in the cab!"
The trainman, plainly visible, valiantly kept the engine whistle blowing.
Higher and higher rose the water. Penny and Louise were certain the
courageous man must meet his doom. But the crest of the flood already had
swept on down the valley, and in a moment the waters about the engine
remained at a standstill.
So quickly had disaster struck that the girls could not immediately
comprehend the extent of the tragedy. From their own train nearly all of
the passengers had escaped. But the town of Delta had not fared so well.
Apparently the flood had roared through the low section, taking all
before it. Farther up the valley, directly below Huntley Lake where the
gorge was narrow, damage to life and property might be even greater.
"What chance could poor Mrs. Lear have had," Louise said brokenly. "Or
the Burmasters."
"There's a possibility they took to the hills in time."
"I doubt it," Louise said grimly. "The flood came so quickly."
Already the yellow, muddy waters were carrying evidence of their work.
Houses, many with men and women clinging desperately to rooftops, floated
past. Other helpless victims clung to logs, orange crates and chicken
coops. At terrific speed they sailed past the base of the hillside.
Several shouted piteously for help.
"We must do something to save those people!" Penny cried desperately.
"What?" Louise asked.
By this time the hillside was dotted with people who had saved
themselves. Several of the women were weeping hysterically. Another had
fainted. For the most part, everyone stared almost stupidly at the
endless stream of debris which was swept down the valley. No one knew how
to aid the agonized victims who clung to whatever their fingers could
clutch.
On one rooftop, Penny counted six persons. The sight drove her to action.
"If only we had a rope--" she cried, and broke off as her eyes roved up
the hillside.
Two hundred yards away stood a farmhouse.
"I'll see if I can get one there!" she cried, darting away.
The hill was steep, the ground soft. Penny's wet clothing impeded her.
She tripped over a stone and fell, but scrambling up, ran on. Finally,
quite out of breath, she reached the farmhouse. A woman with two small
children clinging to her dress, met the girl in the yard.
"Ain't it awful?" she murmured brokenly. "My husband's workin' down at
the Brandale Works. Did the flood strike there?"
"It must have spread through all of Delta," Penny answered. "This
disaster's going to be frightful unless we can get help quickly. Do you
have a telephone?"
"Yes, but it's dead. The wire runs into Delta."
Penny had been afraid of that. She doubted that a single telephone pole
had been left standing in the town. Nor was it likely that the other
valley cities had 'phone service.
"Do you have a rope?" she asked. "A long one?"
"In the barn. I'll get it."
The woman came back in a moment, a coil of rope over her arm.
"Send some of those poor folks up here," she urged as Penny started away
with the rope. "I'll put on a wash boiler of coffee and take care of as
many as I can."
Half sliding, Penny descended the steep hillside. During her absence two
persons had been rescued from the water by means of an improvised lasso
made from torn strips of clothing. Others were drifting past, too far
away to be reached.
A woman and a child floated past, clinging to a log. Penny stood ready,
the rope coiled neatly at her feet. She took careful aim, knowing that if
she missed she would have no second chance.
Penny hurled the rope and it ran free, falling just ahead of the helpless
pair. The half-drowned mother reached with one hand and seized it before
it sank beneath the surface.
"Hold on!" Penny shouted. "Don't let go!"
Several men ran to help her. By working together, they were able to pull
the woman and her child to safety.
Abandoning the rope to skilled hands, Penny rounded the hill to a point
providing a clear view of the flooded railroad yard. The roundhouse, the
coal chutes and the signal tower were gone. But her heart leaped to see
that the station was still standing. Built on high ground it was
surrounded with water which did not appear to be deep.
Penny turned to Louise who had followed her. Just then they both heard
someone shout that the railroad bridge was being swept away. They saw the
massive steel structure swing slowly from its stone foundation. One side
held firm which immediately set up great swirling currents. Any persons
carried that way would be faced with destruction in the whirling pools of
water.
"It's too late to warn the towns directly below Delta!" Penny gasped.
"But there still may be time to get a message through to Hobostein. In
any case, we must get help here!"
"But how?" Louise asked hopelessly. "Any wires that were left standing
must have been torn away when the bridge went."
Penny gazed again toward the Delta depot. Between it and the hillside ran
a fast-moving stretch of water, yet separated from the main body of the
racing flood.
"If only I could get over to the station, I might somehow send a
message!"
"Don't be crazy!" Louise remonstrated. "You haven't a chance to cross
that stretch of water!"
"I think I could. I'm a pretty fair swimmer."
"But the current is so swift."
"There's a certain amount of risk," Penny admitted soberly. "But we can't
stand here and wait. Someone must do something to bring help."
"Don't do it, Penny!" Louise pleaded. "Please!"
Penny hesitated, but only for an instant. She understood perfectly that
if she misjudged the strength of the current it would sweep her
down--perhaps carry her along into the main body of water. Once in the
grip of that angry torrent, no one could hope to battle against it.
The risk, however, was one she felt she must take. Struggling free from
Louise's clinging hands, she kicked off her shoes and tucked up her
skirt. Then she plunged into the swirling water.
CHAPTER
20
_EMERGENCY CALL_
The current was much swifter than Penny had anticipated. It tugged
viciously at her feet, giving her no opportunity to inch her way along
the ditch. A dozen steps and she was beyond her depth, fighting
desperately to keep from being swept with the current.
Although a strong swimmer, Penny found herself no match for the wild
torrent. Only by going with it could she keep her head above water. To
attempt to swim against it was impossible. Despairingly, she saw that she
would miss the railroad station by many yards.
"I'll be swept into the main body of the flood!" she thought in panic. "I
shouldn't have attempted it!"
Too late she tried to turn back toward the hillside. The swift current
held her relentlessly. Struggling against it, her head went under. She
choked as she breathed water, then fought her way to the surface again.
The current carried her on.
After that first moment of panic, Penny did not waste her strength
uselessly. Allowing the flood to carry her along, she took only a few
slow strokes, swimming just enough to keep from being pulled beneath the
surface. As calmly as she could she appraised the situation.
The station now was very close. Scarcely fifty yards separated her from
it, but she knew her physical powers. Her strength was no match for that
racing, swirling, debris-studded current. She could not hope to span the
distance, short though it was.
Penny despaired. And then her heart leaped with new hope. Directly ahead,
a foot and a half above the water's murky surface, rose a steel rod with
red and green signal targets. She recognized the object as a switch
stand, used by trainmen to open and close the passing track switch.
"If I could reach that steel rod I could hold on!" she thought. "But do I
have the strength?"
The swift current swept Penny on toward the upright rod. She took three,
four powerful strokes and reached frantically for the standard. Her
fingers closed around the metal. The swift flowing water whipped her
violently, but she held fast. Drawing herself close to the rod, she
shoved her feet downward. Still she could find no bottom.
Hopefully, Penny glanced toward the station, now less than twenty-five
yards away. Although water completely surrounded the squat little
building, it had not risen to the window level. Yet there was no sign of
anyone near the place--no one to help her.
Still clinging to the rod, she groped again with her bare feet. This time
she located a steel rail. By standing on it, she raised herself a few
inches and found firm footing. Suddenly an idea came to her.
"If I shove off hard from this rail, maybe I can get enough momentum to
carry me through the current! If I fail--"
Penny decided not to think about that. Releasing her hold on the rod, she
pushed off with all her strength and began to swim. Digging her face into
the water, she held her breath and put everything she had into each
stroke. Pull, pull, pull--she had to keep on. Her breath was nearly gone,
strength fast was deserting her. Yet to turn her head and gulp air might
spell defeat when victory was near. She could feel the torrent swinging
her downstream. She made a final, desperate spurt.
"I can't make it!" she thought. "I can't!"
Yet she struggled on. Then suddenly her churning feet struck a solid
object. It was the brick platform of the station!
Raising her head, she saw the building loom up in front of her. The
current no longer tugged at her body. She had reached quiet water.
Penny stood still a moment, regaining her breath.
Then she waded to the front door of the station. It could not be opened.
Penny pounded and shouted. Her cries went unanswered.
"The place is deserted!" she thought with a sinking heart. "Joe Quigley
must have taken to the hills when the flood came."
Slowly Penny waded around the building, unwilling to acknowledge failure.
Somehow she had to get word of the disaster through to the outside world.
Yet even if she did get inside the station, she was far from certain it
would do any good. Telephone wires undoubtedly were down.
Penny made a complete circuit of the depot without seeing anyone. Sick
with disappointment, she paused beside the glass-enclosed bay of the
ticket office and peered inside. She could see no one. But as she pressed
her face against the pane of glass she thought she heard the chatter of a
telegraph instrument.
"That means there still must be a wire connection!" she thought
hopefully.
Nearby, the flood had lodged a small board against the depot wall.
Seizing it, Penny smashed the lower pane of glass with one well-aimed
blow.
She scrambled through the opening, crawled over the operator's table and
dropped to the floor. The little ticket office was deserted though Joe
Quigley's hat still lay on the counter.
"If only I knew how to telegraph!" Penny despaired, hearing again the
chatter of the instrument. "Just knowing Morse code won't help me much."
The telegraph sounder was signaling the station call for Delta: "D-A,
D-A, D-A." Over and over it was repeated.
Penny hesitated and then went to the instrument. She opened the key and
answered with the station call, "D-A."
"Where have you been for the past twenty minutes?" the train dispatcher
sent angrily at top speed. "What's happened to No. 17?"
Penny got only part of the message and guessed at the rest. Nervously, at
very slow speed, she tapped out in Morse code that the train had been
washed off the track.
The dispatcher's next message came very slowly, disclosing that he knew
from Penny's style of sending that he was talking to an amateur
telegrapher.
"Where's Joe Quigley?" he asked in code.
"Don't know," Penny tapped again. "Station's half under water. Can you
send help?"
"Shoot me the facts straight," came the terse order.
Penny described what had happened at Huntley Dam and told how the
railroad bridge had washed out. In return the dispatcher assured her that
a relief crew would be sent without delay.
"Stay on the job until relieved," was his final order.
Weak with excitement, Penny leaned back in her chair. Help actually was
on the way! The dispatcher would notify the proper authorities and set in
motion the wheels of various relief organizations. For the moment she had
done all she could.
She listened tensely as the dispatcher's crisp call flashed over the
wire. He was notifying stations farther up the line to hold all trains
running into the valley. Repeatedly Penny heard the call "W-F" which she
took to be Witch Falls. It went unanswered.
Half sick with dread, she waited, hoping for a response. It was likely,
almost a certainty that the station had been swept away, for the town
would have been squarely in the path of the flood. What had happened to
old Mrs. Lear and the Burmasters? Penny tried not to think about it.
Unexpectedly, the outside office door opened. Joe Quigley, bedraggled and
haggard, one arm hanging limp at his side, splashed toward the desk.
Seeing Penny, he stopped short, yet seemed too dazed to question the
girl's presence in the inner office.
"It's awful," he mumbled. "I was on the station platform when I saw that
wall of water coming. Tried to warn the men in the roundhouse. Before I
could cross the tracks, it was too late. One terrific crash and the
roundhouse disappeared--"
"You're hurt," Penny cried as the agent reeled against the wall. "Your
arm is crushed. How did it happen?"
"Don't know," Joe admitted, sinking into a chair the girl offered. "I was
knocked off my feet. Came to lying in a pile of boards that had snagged
against a tree trunk." He stared at Penny as if really seeing her for the
first time. "Say," he demanded, "how did you get in here?"
"Smashed the window. It was the only way."
The agent got to his feet, staggering toward the telegraph desk.
"I've got to send a message," he said jerkily. "No. 30's due at Rodney in
twenty minutes."
"All the trains have been stopped by the dispatcher," Penny reassured
him, and explained how she had sent out the call for help.
Joe Quigley slumped back in the chair. "If you can telegraph, let the
dispatcher know I'm on the job again. This hand of mine's not so hot for
sending."
Penny obediently sent the stumbling message, but as she completed it the
telegraph sounder became lifeless. Although she still could manipulate
the key, the signals had faded completely.
"Now what?" she cried, bewildered.
"The wire's dead!" Quigley exclaimed. Anxiously he glanced toward the
storage batteries, fearing that water had damped them out. However, the
boxes were high above the floor and still dry.
"What can be wrong?" Penny asked the operator.
"Anything can happen in a mess like this."
Reaching across the table with his good hand, Quigley tested the wire by
opening and closing the lifeless telegraph key.
"It's completely out," he declared with finality.
"Isn't there anything we can do?"
Quigley got to his feet. "There's just one chance. The wire may have
grounded when the bridge was swept away. Then if it tore loose again we'd
be out of service."
"In that case we're up against it."
"Maybe not," Quigley replied. He splashed across the room to the
switchboard. "If that should happen to be the trouble, we can ground it
here."
He inserted a plug in the groundplate of the switchboard. Immediately the
sounder came to life, closing with a sharp click.
"I call that luck!" grinned Quigley. "Now let's try that dispatcher. Want
to get him on the wire for me?"
Penny nodded and sat down at the desk again. Insistently she sent out the
call, "D-S, D-S, D-S." All the while as she kept the key moving, her
thoughts raced ahead. She was afraid that persons had lost their lives in
the flood. Property damage was beyond estimate. But catastrophe spelled
Big News and she was certain her father would want every detail of the
story for the _Riverview Star_. If only she could send word to him!
"What's the matter?" Quigley asked, his voice impatient. "Can't you get
an answer?"
Just then it came--a crisp "I--DS" which told the two listeners that the
train dispatcher again was on the wire.
Quigley took over, explaining the break in service and giving the
dispatcher such facts as he desired. Hovering at the agent's elbow, Penny
asked him if the dispatcher would take an important personal message.
"For the _Riverview Star_," she added quickly. "My father's newspaper."
"I doubt he'll do it," Quigley discouraged her. "This one wire is needed
for vital railroad messages. But we'll see."
He tapped out a message and the reply came. It was sent so fast that
Penny could not understand the code. Quigley translated it as "Okay, but
make it brief."
With no time to compose a carefully worded message, Penny reported the
bare facts of the disaster. She addressed the message to her father and
signed her own name.
"There, that's off," Quigley said, sagging back in his chair.
Penny saw that the station agent was in no condition to carry on his
work.
"You're in bad shape," she said anxiously. "Let me bandage that smashed
hand."
"It's nothing. I'll be okay."
"I'll find something to tie it up with," Penny insisted.
In search of bandage material, she crossed the room to a wall closet. As
she reached for the door handle, Quigley turned swiftly in his chair.
"No, not there!" he exclaimed.
Penny already had opened the door. Her gaze fastened upon a white roll of
cloth on the top shelf. She reached for it and it came fluttering down
into her hands--a loose garment fashioned somewhat like a cape with tiny
slits cut for eyes. In an instant she knew what it was. Slowly she turned
to face Joe Quigley.
"So it was you!" she whispered accusingly. "The Headless Horseman of
Sleepy Hollow!"
CHAPTER
21
_A MYSTERY EXPLAINED_
Joe Quigley did not deny the accusation. He slumped at the telegraph
desk, staring straight before him.
"Why did you do it?" Penny asked. "How could you?"
"I don't know--now," Quigley answered heavily. "It seemed like a good
idea at the time."
Penny shook out the garment. The whole, when worn over one's head, would
give an appearance of a sheeted goblin with body cut off at the
shoulders. She tore off a long strip of the material and began to wrap
Quigley's injured hand.
"You've known for a long time, haven't you?" he asked diffidently.
"I suspected it, but I wasn't sure," Penny replied. "Your style of riding
is rather spectacular. Last night when I saw Trinidad leap the barrier at
Sleepy Hollow I thought I knew."
"Nothing matters now," Quigley said, self accusingly. "Sleepy Hollow's
gone."
"Don't you think Mrs. Lear and the Burmasters had any chance to reach the
hills?"
"I doubt it. When the dam broke, the water raced down the valley with the
speed of an express train. Probably they were caught like rats in a
trap."
"It seems too horrible."
"I knew this would happen," Quigley went on. "It was what I fought
against. We tried through the Delta Citizens' Committee to get Burmaster
to help repair the dam before it was too late. You know what luck we
had."
"So failing in ordinary methods, you tried to bring him around with your
Headless Horseman stunt?"
"It was a foolish idea," Quigley acknowledged. "Mrs. Lear really put me
up to it--not that I'm trying to throw any blame on her. She never liked
Mrs. Burmaster, and for good reasons. The Headless Horseman affair
started out as a prank, and then I thought I saw a chance to influence
Burmaster that way."
"At that he might have come around if it hadn't been for his wife."
"Yes, she was against the town from the first. She hated everyone. Why,
she believed that our only thought was to get her away from the valley
just to trick her."
"I guess it doesn't matter now," Penny said. "The estate's gone and
everyone with it. Somehow I can't realize it--things happened so fast."
"This is a horrible disaster, and it will be worse if help doesn't get
here fast," Quigley replied. "Fortunately, the water doesn't seem to be
coming higher."
Penny had completed a rough bandaging job on the station agent's hand.
Thanking her, he got up to test the two office telephones. Both were out
of service.
Presently a message came in over the telegraph wire. It was addressed to
Penny and was from her father. Quigley copied it on a pad and handed it
to her.
"Thank God you are safe," the message read. "A special circuit will be
cut through to the Delta station as soon as possible. Can you give us a
complete, running story of the flood?"
"What's a running story?" Quigley asked curiously.
"I think Dad wants me to gather every fact I can," Penny explained. "He
wants a continuous story--enough material to fill a wire for several
hours."
"You'll do it?"
"I don't know," Penny said doubtfully. "I've never handled a story as big
as this--I've had no experience on anything so important."
"There's no other person to do it."
"I want to find Louise," Penny went on, rereading the message. "I ought
to try to learn what happened to poor Mrs. Lear and the Burmasters."
"Listen," Quigley argued quietly. "You can't do anything for your friends
now. Don't you see it's your duty to get news out to the country? Your
father expects it of you."
Penny remained silent.
"Don't you realize there's no one else to send the news?" Quigley
demanded. "You're probably the only reporter within miles of here."
"But I'm not really a reporter. I've written stories for Dad's paper,
it's true. But not big stories such as this."
"Red Valley needs help. The only way to get it is by arousing the public.
Do I wire your father 'yes' or 'no'?"
"Make it 'yes,'" Penny decided. "Tell Dad I'll try to have something for
him in an hour."
"You'll need longer than that," Quigley advised. "Anyhow, it's apt to be
several hours before we get a special wire through."
While the agent sent the message, Penny searched the office for pencil
and paper.
"You won't get far without shoes," Quigley said over his shoulder. "What
became of yours?"
"Left them over on the hillside."
"Well, you can't go back for them now," Quigley replied, gazing ruefully
through the window at the racing torrent which separated the station from
the high hill. "Let's see what we can find for you."
He rummaged through the closet and came upon a pair of boots which looked
nearly small enough for Penny.
"We had a boy who wore those when he worked here," he explained. "See if
they'll do. And here's my coat."
"Oh, I can't take it," Penny protested. "You'll need it yourself."
"No, I'm sticking here at my post," Quigley answered. "I'll be warm
enough."
He insisted that Penny wear the coat. She left the station and waded
toward higher ground. The coat over her drenched clothing offered only
slight protection from the chill wind. With the sun dropping low, she
knew that soon she would actually suffer from cold.
Penny wondered where to start in gathering vital facts for her father.
The flood had followed the narrow V-shaped valley, cutting a swath of
destruction above Delta, and there spreading out to the lowlands. She
decided to tour the outlying section of Delta first, view the wreckage
and question survivors.
"If only Salt were here!" she thought. "Dad would want pictures, but
there's no way for me to take them."
Keeping to the hillside, Penny reached a high point of land overlooking
what had been the town of Delta. Two or three streets remained as before.
One of the few business places still standing was the big white stone
building that housed the local telephone company. Elsewhere there was
only water and scattered debris.
Penny headed up the valley, passing and meeting groups of bedraggled
refugees who had taken to the hills at the first alarm. She questioned
everyone. Nevertheless, definite information eluded her. How many lives
had been lost? How great was the property damage? What fate had befallen
Mrs. Lear and the Burmasters? No one seemed to know.
Half sick with despair, she kept on. She jotted down names and facts. Mr.
Bibbs, an old man who ran a weekly newspaper at Delta, was able to help
her more than anyone else. Not only did he give her a partial list of the
known missing, but he recited many other facts that had escaped Penny.
"A million thanks--" she began gratefully, but he waved her into silence.
"Just get back to the railroad station and send your story," he urged.
Penny lost all count of time as she retraced her way along the muddy
hillside. Everywhere she saw suffering and destruction. Her mind was so
numbed to the sight that she recorded impressions automatically.
It was long after nightfall before Penny reached the station. Every
muscle protested as she dragged herself wearily to the doorstep. During
her absence the flood had lowered by nearly a foot. However, the current
remained swift, and she steadied herself for a moment against the
building wall.
"Who's there?" called Quigley sharply.
"Penny Parker."
"Okay, come on in," the agent invited. "Thought you might be a looter."
Penny pushed open the door. The waiting room was filled with men, women
and children who slumped in cold misery on the uncomfortable row of
seats. Few were provided with any warm clothing.
Penny splashed through the dark, musty room to the inner office. Quigley
had lighted a smoky oil lamp which revealed that he had made himself a
bed on top of the telegraph desk.
"I'm turning in for the night," he explained. "There's nothing more we
can do until morning."
"How about my story to the _Star_?" Penny asked wearily. "Is the special
wire set up yet?"
"Don't make me laugh," Quigley replied. "The Dispatcher's wire went out
for good over an hour ago. Too bad you killed yourself to get that story,
because it will have to wait."
"But it mustn't wait," Penny protested. "Dad's counting on me. I gave my
promise. How about the telephone company?"
"Their lines are all down."
"Western Union?"
"It's the same with them. Repair crews are on their way here but it will
take time. The valley's completely cut off from communication."
"For how long?"
"Listen, Penny, you know as much about it as I do. The airfields are
under water."
"How about the roads?"
"Open only part of the way."
Completely discouraged, Penny sagged into a chair by the ticket counter.
She was wet through, plastered with mud, hungry, and tired enough to
collapse. After all of her work and suffering, her efforts had been in
vain. By morning experienced city reporters and photographers would swarm
into the valley. Her scoop would be no scoop at all.
"Oh, brace up," Quigley encouraged carelessly.
"But I've failed Dad. It would mean a lot to him to get an exclusive
story of this disaster. I gave him my promise I'd send the facts--now
I've failed."
"It's not your fault the wire couldn't be set up," Quigley tried to
encourage her. "Here, I managed to get ahold of a blanket for you. Wrap
up in it and grab some sleep. You'll need your strength tomorrow."
"I guess you're right," Penny acknowledged gloomily.
Taking off the muddy boots, she rolled herself into the warm blanket.
Curling up into the chair she pillowed her head on the desk and slept the
untroubled sleep of complete exhaustion.
CHAPTER
22
_WANTED--A WIRE_
Toward morning Penny awoke to find her limbs stiff and cramped. Murky,
fetid water still flowed over the floor of the station. However, it had
lowered during the night, leaving a rim of oozy mud to mark the office
walls. The first ray of light streamed through the broken window.
Penny yawned and stretched her cramped feet. She felt wretched and dirty.
Her clothing was stiff and caked with mud. She scraped off what she could
and washed face and hands in a basin of water she found at the back end
of the room.
When she returned, Joe Quigley was awake.
"My neck! My arm! My whole anatomy!" he complained, rubbing a hand over
his stubbly beard. "I'm a cripple for life."
"I feel the same way," Penny grinned. "I'm hungry too. Anything to eat
around here?"
"Not a crumb. The folks out in the waiting room broke into all the
vending machines last night. There's not so much as a piece of candy
left."
"And there's no place in Delta where food can be bought."
"Not that I know of. Only a few relief kitchens were set up last night.
They can't begin to take care of the mob."
Penny peered out into the crowded waiting room. Mothers with babies in
their arms had sat there all night. Some of the refugees were weeping;
others accepted their lot with stoical calm. Seeing such misery, Penny
forgot her own hunger and discomfort.
"Don't you think help will come soon?" she asked Quigley.
"Hard to tell," he replied. "It should."
Penny went out into the waiting room but there was very little she could
do to help the unfortunate sufferers. She gave one of the women her
blanket.
"That was foolish of you," Quigley told her a moment later. "You'll
likely need it yourself."
"I'd rather go without," Penny replied. "Anyway, I can't bear to stay
here any longer. I'm going to the telephone office."
"Why there?"
"The building stands high and should be one of the first places to
reopen," Penny declared hopefully. "Maybe I can get a long distance call
through to Dad."
"Better leave some of your story with me," advised Quigley. "If we get a
wire before the telephone company does, I'll try to send it for you."
Penny scribbled a hundred word message, packing it solidly with facts. If
ever it reached Riverview a _Star_ rewrite man could enlarge it to at
least a column.
Saying goodbye to Joe, Penny made her way toward all that remained of
Delta's business section. She had not seen Louise since the previous
afternoon and was greatly worried about her.
"I know she's safe," she told herself. "But I must find her."
Penny was not alone on the devastated streets. Refugees wandered
aimlessly about, seeking loved ones or treasured possessions. Long lines
of shivering people waited in front of a church that had been converted
into a soup kitchen.
Penny joined the line. Just as a woman handed her a steaming cup of hot
broth, she heard her name spoken. Turning quickly, she saw Louise running
toward her from across the street.
"Penny! Penny!" her chum cried joyfully.
"Careful," Penny cautioned, balancing the cup of soup. "This broth is as
precious as gold."
"Oh, you poor thing!" cried Louise, hugging her convulsively. "You look
dreadful."
"That's because I'm so hungry," Penny laughed. "Have you had anything to
eat?"
"Oh, yes, I stayed at that farmhouse on the hill last night. I actually
had a bed to sleep in and a good hot breakfast this morning. But I've
been dreadfully worried about you."
"And that goes double," answered Penny. "Wait until I gobble this soup,
and we'll compare notes."
She drank the broth greedily and the girls walked away from the church.
Penny then told of her experiences since leaving her chum on the
hillside. Louise was much relieved to learn that word had been sent to
Riverview of their safety.
"But what of Mrs. Lear and the Burmasters?" she asked anxiously. "Have
you heard what happened to them?"