Hoofbeats on the Turnpike Part 7

CHAPTER 5 _SLEEPY HOLLOW ESTATE_

"I'm afraid that young man was having fun at our expense," Penny remarked after horse and rider had gone. "How do you suppose he knew about my father?"

"Read it in a newspaper probably. You've both made the headlines often enough." Louise sighed wearily and s.h.i.+fted positions. "I certainly wish we never had come here."

"Well, I don't," Penny said with emphasis. She clucked to Bones and when he failed to move smartly along, gave him a quick jab with her heels. "If Joe Quigley won't tell us about that galloping ghost, perhaps Mr. Malcom will."

"I'll settle for my missing horse," Louise responded.

The girls jogged on down the road toward the Malcom cabin. Already the hills were casting long blue shadows over the valley floor. With night fast approaching Penny began to wonder where they could seek lodging.

"You don't catch me staying at the Malcom place," Louise said, reading her chum's thought. "It's too ramshackle."

Drawing nearer the cabin, both girls were elated to see White Foot grazing contentedly in a stony field adjoining the Malcom barn yard. At the gate Penny alighted nimbly and threw it open so that Louise could ride through.

The creaking of the rusty hinges brought Silas Malcom from the tumble-down house. He stared blankly for a moment and then recognized Penny.

"Well, bless my heart," he said. "If it ain't the young lady that helped me at the newspaper office!"

"And now it's your turn to help us," laughed Penny. "We've lost our horse."

"I knowed somebody would be along for her purty soon," the old man chuckled. "She run into the barn yard 'bout ten minutes ago an' I turned her out to graze. I'll git her for you."

If Mr. Malcom was surprised to see Penny so far from Riverview he did not disclose it. He asked no questions. Hobbling to the fence, he whistled a shrill blast. White Foot p.r.i.c.ked up her ears and then came trotting over to nuzzle the old man's hand.

"You certainly have that horse under control," said Penny admiringly. "I guess it's all in the way you handle 'em."

"It's also all in the way you handle a Flying Fortress or a stick of dynamite," Louise cut in. "You may have my share of horses!"

"White Foot didn't throw you off?" Mr. Malcom inquired.

"Oh, no," Louise a.s.sured him, and explained how the horse had run away.

Old Silas chuckled appreciatively. "White Foot always did have a habit o'

sneakin' off like that. Raised her from a colt, but sold her to Williams down in Hobostein when I got short o' cash."

Wrapping the reins about a hitching post, the old man allowed his gaze to wander toward the valley. With a gesture that was hard to interpret, he indicated the long stretch of fertile pasture land, golden grain fields and orderly rows of young orchard trees.

"See that!" he commanded.

"It's a beautiful valley," Louise murmured politely.

"It's mor'n that," corrected the old man. "You're lookin' at one o' the richest parcels o' land in this here state. Me and the old woman lived down there fer goin' on twenty years. Then we was put out o' our cabin.

Now that penny-pinchin' Burmaster owns every acre fer as you can see--not countin' the village o' Delta an' three acres held fer spite by the Widder Lear."

Old Silas took a chew of tobacco and pointed to a trim little log cabin visible through a gap in the trees.

"Stands out like a sore thumb, don't it? Burmaster's done everything he can to git rid o' that place, but the Widder Lear jes' sits tight an'

won't have no dealings with him. Says that if the old skinflint comes round her place again she's goin' to drive him off with a shotgun."

Penny and Louise waited, hoping that the old man would tell more. After a little silence, he resumed meditatively:

"The Widder was the smartest o' the lot of us. From the first she said Burmaster was out to gobble up all the best land for hisself. n.o.body could get her to sign no papers. That's why she's got her little place today and the rest of us is tryin' to make a livin' out o' these stone patches."

"Burmaster forced all of the valley folk off their land?" Penny inquired, perplexed. "How could he do that?"

"Some of 'em sold out to him," Old Silas admitted. "But mostly the land was owned by a rich feller in Boston. He never paid no attention to his holdings 'cept to collect a bit o' rent now and then. But last spring he up and sold out to Burmaster, and we was all told to git off the land."

Penny nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose that was entirely legal. If Mr.

Burmaster bought and paid for the land one couldn't accuse him of dishonest dealings."

"I ain't accusin' n.o.body o' nothin'," Old Silas replied. "I'm jes'

tellin' you how things are in this here valley. Ye came to find out about that Headless Horseman, didn't ye?"

"Well, yes, we did," Penny acknowledged.

"Figured you would. You'll never win that reward Burmaster's offerin', but you could do a heap o' good in this here valley."

"How?" asked Penny, even more puzzled.

"You got a pa that runs a big city newspaper. When he prints an editorial piece in that paper o' his, folks read it and pay attention."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You will after you been here awhile," the old man chuckled. "Where you gals calculatin' to spend the night?"

"I wish we knew."

"Me and the ole woman'd be glad to take you in, only we ain't got no room fitten for city-raised gals. The Widder Lear'll be glad to give you bed and fodder."

The girls thanked Mr. Malcom, though secretly they were sure they would keep on until they reached Delta. A suspicion was growing in Penny's mind that she had not come to the valley of her own free will. Rather she had been lured there by Old Silas' Headless Horseman tale. She had a.s.sumed the old fellow to be a simple, trusting hillman, while in truth he meant to make use of her.

"Calculate you're anxious-like to git down to the valley 'fore night sets on," the old man resumed. "The turnpike's no fitten place for a gal after dark."

"You think we might meet the Headless Horseman?" Penny asked, smiling.

Old Silas deliberately allowed the question to pa.s.s.

"Jes' follow the turnpike," he instructed. "You'll come fust to the Burmaster place. Then on beyond is the Widder Lear's cabin. She'll treat you right."

Penny had intended to ask Old Silas if he still had a spinning wheel for sale. However, a glimpse of the darkening sky warned her there was no time to waste. She and Louise must hasten on unless they expected to be overtaken by night.

"Goodbye," Penny said, vaulting into the saddle. "We'll probably see you again before we leave the valley."

"Calculate you will," agreed Old Silas. As he opened the gate for the girls he smiled in a way they could not fathom.

Once more on the curving turnpike, Penny and Louise discussed the old man's strange words. Both were agreed that Silas had not been in the least surprised to see them.