The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (156 page)

“Well, they come here, and forced folks to git off the land.”

“Didn’t Mr. Burmaster pay for what he bought?”

“Oh, it was done legal,” Mrs. Lear admitted grudgingly. “You see, most o’ this valley was owned by a man in the East. He rented it out in parcels, an’never bothered anyone even if they was behind in their payments.”

“Then Mr. Burmaster bought the entire track of land from the Eastern owner?” inquired Penny.

“That’s right. All except these here four acres where my house sets. They ain’t nothin’ in this world that will git me in a mood to sell to that old skinflint. He’s tried every trick in the bag already.”

Penny thoughtfully reached for another pancake. As an impartial judge she could see that there was something to be said on both sides of the question. Mr. Burmaster had purchased his land legally, and so could not be blamed for asking the former renters to move. Yet she sympathized with the farmers who for so many years had considered the valley their own.

“This house o’ mine ain’t much to look at,” Mrs. Lear commented reflectively, “but it’s been home fer a long time. Ain’t nobody going to get me out o’ here.”

“You own your own land?” inquired Louise.

“That I do,” nodded Mrs. Lear proudly. “I got the deed hid under my bed mattress.”

“Won’t you tell us about Mr. Burmaster’s difficulty with the Headless Horseman,” Penny urged, feeling that the old lady was in a talkative mood.

“What do you want to know?” Mrs. Lear asked cautiously.

“Is there really such a thing or is it just a story?”

“If you girls stay in this valley long enough you’ll learn fer yourselves,” Mrs. Lear chuckled. “I’ll warrant you’ll see that Horseman.”

“And you know who the prankster is!” Penny ventured daringly.

“Maybe I do,” Mrs. Lear admitted with a chuckle. “But a ten-mule team couldn’t pry it out o’ me, and neither can you!”

Before Penny could resume the subject, chickens began to squawk and scatter in the barn yard. A large, expensive looking car pulled up near the side door. Mrs. Lear peeped out of a window and her jaw set in a firm, hard line.

“That’s Mr. Burmaster now,” she announced in a stage whisper. “Well, he ain’t goin’ to pressure me. No sir! I’ll give him as good as he sends!”

After Mr. Burmaster pounded on the kitchen door, the old lady took her time before she let him in.

“Good morning,” he said brightly.

“Humph! What’s good about it?” Mrs. Lear shot back. “It’s rainin’, ain’t it? And if we git much more o’ it this fall, the dam up Huntley way’s goin’ to let go shore as I’m a standin’ here.”

“Nonsense!” replied the estate owner impatiently. He stepped into the kitchen. Seeing Penny and Louise, he looked rather surprised and a trifle embarrassed.

“Go on and say what you come to say,” Mrs. Lear encouraged. “Don’t stand on no ceremony jus’ cause I got city visitors.”

Obviously Mr. Burmaster did not like to speak before strangers, but there was no other way.

“You know why I am here, Mrs. Lear,” he began. “I’ve already made several offers for your property—”

“And I’ve turned ’em all down.”

“Yes, but this time I hope you’ll listen to reason. Last night my wife had a near collapse after a boy rode a horse across the bridge by our house. All this stupid talk about Headless Horsemen has inspired the community to do mischief. Now every boy in the Valley is trying pranks.”

“Then why not ketch the Horseman and put an end to it?” Mrs. Lear asked impudently.

“Nothing would please me better. But we’ve had no success. My wife can’t endure the strain much longer. It’s driving her to a frenzy.”

“I’m sorry about that,” replied Mrs. Lear stonily. “There ain’t nothin’ I can do.”

“I want you to sell this property,” Mr. Burmaster pleaded. “At least that will remove one irritation. You see, my wife considers the place an eyesore. She can see your house from our living room window. It ruins an otherwise perfect view of the valley.”

“Now ain’t that too bad!” Mrs. Lear’s tone was sarcastic. “Well, let me tell you somethin’. That place o’ yorn spoils my view too!”

“I’m afraid I haven’t made myself clear,” Mr. Burmaster said hastily. “It’s a matter of my wife’s health.”

“Your wife ain’t no more ailin’ than I be,” Mrs. Lear retorted. “If she didn’t have my house to bother her it would be somethin’ else. I ain’t goin’ to sell and that’s all there is to it!”

“You’ve not heard my offer. I’ll give you two thousand dollars for this place—cash.”

Mrs. Lear looked a trifle stunned.

“At best the place isn’t worth five hundred,” Mr. Burmaster resumed. “But I aim to be generous.”

“I won’t sell,” Mrs. Lear said firmly. “Not at any price. Them’s my final words.”

Mr. Burmaster had kept his voice carefully controlled but the old lady’s decision angered him.

“You’ll regret this!” he said in a harsh tone. “I’ve been very patient but I warn you! From now on I shall act in my own interests.”

“Have you ever acted in any other?” drawled a voice from behind the estate owner.

Everyone turned quickly. Joe Quigley, the young station agent, stood framed in the open doorway. Smiling at Burmaster in a grim way, he came slowly into the kitchen.

CHAPTER 9

STRAIGHT FROM THE SHOULDER

A silence had fallen upon those in the room. Joe Quigley shook rain drops from his overcoat. Deliberately he took his time hanging the coat over a chair in front of the cook stove. Then, still smiling in an ironic way, he faced Burmaster.

“I repeat,” he challenged, “did you ever act in any manner except for your own interest?”

“You are insulting! Insolent!” Mr. Burmaster snapped. “But I’ll not be drawn into an argument with you. Good morning!”

Quigley blocked the door. “Not so fast,” he drawled. “Matter of fact, I was on my way to your house. Saw your car standing in Mrs. Lear’s yard, so I figured you were here.”

“If you have a telegram for me I’ll take it.”

“The only message I have is a verbal one,” answered Quigley. “Our mayor from Delta, Bradley Mason, asked me to talk to you about the Huntley Dam.”

“The subject doesn’t interest me.”

“It should interest every man, woman and child in this valley!” Quigley retorted. “If the dam gives way flood waters will sweep straight down the valley. Your house would be destroyed before you knew there was any danger!”

“Really?” Mr. Burmaster’s smile was a sneer. “Let me worry about my own property.”

“As a matter of record, I don’t lose any sleep over you,” Quigley responded heatedly. “But I am thinking about Mrs. Lear and the people living in Delta. Not to mention the towns on down the line which would be in the direct path of the flood.”

“If the good people of Delta are endangered why don’t they repair the dam themselves?”

“For the reason that we can’t raise the money. We’ve tried.”

“Then the State should act in the matter. I’m willing to write my senator—”

“Repairs are needed now, not three months later. Mr. Burmaster, you have the money and you’d be doing the community a great service to lend help. We’re not asking for a donation. It’s as much to your interest as ours to protect the valley.”

“There’s no danger,” Burmaster said angrily. “Not a particle. It’s only a scheme to shake me down for money.”

Brushing past the station agent, the man went out into the rain. In driving out of the yard he turned the car so sharply that it skidded on its wheels.

“Well, that’s that,” Quigley remarked with a shrug. “I should have saved my breath.”

“I’m glad
he
’s gone,” Mrs. Lear announced tartly. “Will you have a bite o’ breakfast, Joe?”

“No, thanks,” the young station agent replied. “I’m due for my trick at the Depot in twenty minutes. Have to run along.”

The girls were sorry to see Joe Quigley go so soon for they had hoped to have a long talk with him. After he had disappeared into the rain they tried without much success to draw more information from Mrs. Lear. The old lady was in no mood to discuss the Burmasters, but she did have a great deal to say about flood danger to the valley.

“’Tain’t usual that we have so much rain,” she declared. “Not at this time o’ year. Old Red River’s floodin’ to the brim, an keeps pourin’ more and more into the Huntley Lake basin. The dam there was built years ago and it wasn’t much to brag on from the start.”

“Haven’t authorities inspected the dam recently?”Penny inquired thoughtfully.

“Oh, some young whippersnapper come here a month ago and took a quick look and said the dam would hold,” Mrs. Lear replied, tossing her head.

“But he ain’t livin’ in the Valley. We want repairs made and we want ’em quick—not next year.”

“Since Mr. Burmaster refuses to help is there nothing that can be done?”

“There’s some as thinks a little piece in the city papers might help,” Mrs. Lear said, giving Penny a quick, shrewd glance. “Your pa’s a newspaper owner, ain’t he?”

“Yes, he owns the
Riverview Star
.”

Penny gazed across the table at Louise. It struck both girls that Mrs. Lear was very well informed about their affairs. How had the old lady learned that Mr. Parker was a newspaper man if not from Silas Malcom? More than ever Penny was convinced that she had been lured to Red Valley, perhaps for the purpose of interesting her famous father in the Huntley Dam project.

“You’ve been very kind, Mrs. Lear,” she said, abruptly arising from the table. “Louise and I appreciate your hospitality. However, we want to pay for our room and meals before we go.”

“You don’t owe me a penny,” the old lady laughed. “Furthermore, you ain’t leavin’ yet.”

“We must. There’s an afternoon train—”

“And there’ll be another along tomorrow. Why, you’d catch your death o’ cold ridin’ hoss back all the way to Hobostein.”

“The rain should let up soon.”

“It should, but it won’t,” Mrs. Lear declared. “Why don’t you stay until tomorror anyhow? Then you could go to the barn dance tonight at Silas’ place.”

At the moment, the girls were not greatly intrigued at the prospect of attending a barn dance. The steady rain had depressed them. Though the long journey to Red Valley had proven interesting, it scarcely seemed worth the exhausting effort. They had learned very little about the so-called Headless Horseman and doubted that any truly valuable information would come their way.

“If you stay over maybe you’ll git a chance to see that hoss-ridin’ ghost,” Mrs. Lear said slyly. “Seems like it’s mostly on bad nights that he does his prowlin’.”

The girls helped with the dishes. They made the bed and watched Mrs. Lear sew on a rag rug. At intervals they wandered to the windows. Rain fell steadily, showing not the slightest sign of a let up.

“Didn’t I tell you,” Mrs. Lear said gleefully. “It’s settlin’ for a good healthy pour. You might jest as well calculate on stayin’ another night.”

“But our parents will be expecting us home,”Louise protested.

“Send ’em a wire from Delta,” Mrs. Lear urged. “Reckon this rain’ll maybe slacken a bit come afternoon.”

Throughout the long morning Louise and Penny wandered restlessly about the house. Now and then they sought without success to draw information from Mrs. Lear about the mysterious prankster. From the merry twinkle in her eyes they were convinced she knew a great deal. Pry it from her they could not.

“Maybe that Headless Horseman ain’t nobody human,” she chuckled. “Maybe it’s a real haunt. I mind the time somebody witched my cow. The stubborn critter didn’t give no milk for eight days steady.”

Penny and Louise weren’t sure whether the old lady was serious or trying to tease them. After awhile they gave up attempting to solve such an enigma. By noon they had reconciled themselves to staying another night at Red Valley. However, scarcely had they made their decision to remain, than the sky cleared.

“We’re stuck here anyway,” Penny sighed. “We couldn’t possibly ride our horses back to Hobostein in time to catch the afternoon train.”

After luncheon the girls hiked across-fields to the picturesque little town of Delta. There they dropped in at the depot to chat with Joe Quigley and send a telegram to their parents.

“If time’s heavy on your hands why not take a little jaunt to the Huntley Dam?” the station agent suggested. “It should be well worth your time.”

Penny and Louise decided to do just that. At Mrs. Lear’s once more, they saddled their horses and took the pike road to a well-marked trail which led up into the hills. Ditches were brimming with fast running water, yet there was no other evidence of flood.

“Do you suppose all this talk about the dam being weak is just talk?” Penny speculated as they rode along. “In case of real danger one would think State authorities would step into the picture.”

Soon the girls came to the winding Red River. Swollen by the fall rains, the current raced madly over rocks and stones. The roar of rushing water warned them that they were close to the dam. In another moment they glimpsed a mighty torrent of water pouring in a silvery white ribbon over the high barrier.