Hoofbeats on the Turnpike Part 19

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 fas.h.i.+on 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 p.r.i.c.ked 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 pa.s.sengers.

"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."