The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels (152 page)

Penny laughed and grasping her chums arm, pulled her down the street.

“That’s what I hope,” she confessed. “Unless Sleepy Hollow lets us down shamefully, our adventure is just starting!”

CHAPTER 4

A STRANGER OF THE ROAD

Even for late September it was a warm day. The horses plodded slowly up a steep, winding trail heavily canopied with yellowing maple leaves. Louise and Penny swished angrily at the buzzing mosquitoes and tried to urge their tired mounts to a faster pace.

“I warned you this trip would be slaughter,” Louise complained, ducking to avoid a tree limb. “Furthermore, I suspect we’re lost.”

“How could we be, when we haven’t turned off the trail?” Penny called over her shoulder.

She rode ahead on a sorry looking nag appropriately named Bones. The animal was more easily managed than the skittish mare Louise had chosen at Williams’ Livery Stable, but had an annoying appetite for foliage.

“Mr. Williams’ directions were clear enough,”Penny resumed. “He said to follow this trail until we reach a little town named Delta.”

“Providing we survive that long,” Louise interposed crossly. “How far from Delta to Sleepy Hollow?”

“Not more than two or three miles. And once we get down out of these hills into the valley, the going should be much easier.”

Penny spoke with forced cheerfulness. In truth, she too had wearied of the trip which in the last hour had become sheer torture instead of adventure. Her freckled face was blotched with mosquito bites. Every hairpin had been jolted from her head and muscles fairly screamed a protest. Louise, on an unruly horse, had taken even more punishment.

Penny gave Bones a dig in the ribs. The horse quickened his step, weaving a corkscrew path around the trunks of the giant trees.

Gradually the tangle of brush and trees began to thin out. They came at last to a clearing at the brow of the hill. Penny drew rein beside a huge, moss-covered rock. Below stretched a beautiful rich, green valley through which wound a flood-swollen river. From the chimney-tops of a cluster of houses smoke curled lazily, blending into the blue rim of the distant hills.

“Did you ever see a prettier little valley?” Penny asked, her interest reviving. “That must be Delta down there.”

Louise was too weary to look or answer. She slid out of the saddle and tossed the reins over a tree limb. Near by a spring gushed from between the rocks. She walked stiffly to it and drank deeply of the cool water.

“Lou, the valley looks exactly as I hoped it would!”Penny went on eagerly. “It has a dreamy, drowsy atmosphere, just as Irving described the Sleepy Hollow of legend!”

Louise bent to drink of the spring again. She sponged her hot face with a dampened handkerchief. Pulling off shoes and stockings, she let the cool water trickle over her bare feet.

“According to legend, the valley and its inhabitants were bewitched,” Penny rambled on. “Why, the Indians considered these hills as the abode of Spirits. Sometimes the Spirits took mischievous delight in wreaking trouble upon the villagers—”

Penny’s voice trailed off. From far down the hillside came the faint thud of hoofbeats. The girl’s attention became fixed upon a moving horseman on the road below.

“Now what?” inquired Louise impatiently. “Don’t try to tell me you’ve seen the Headless Horseman already?”

“I’ve certainly seen a horseman! My, can that fellow ride!”

Louise picked up her shoes and hobbled over the stones to the trail’s end. Through a gap in the trees she gazed down upon a winding turnpike fringed on either side with an old-fashioned rail fence. A horseman, mounted on a roan mare, rode bareback at a full run. As the girls watched in admiration, the mare took the low fence in one magnificent leap and crashed out of sight through the trees.

“You’re right, Penny,” Louise acknowledged. “What wouldn’t I give to be able to ride like that! One of the villagers, I suppose.”

The hoofbeats rapidly died away. Louise turned wearily around, intending to remount her horse. She stared in astonishment. Where the mare had grazed, there now was only trampled grass.

“Where’s my horse?” she demanded. “Where’s White Foot?”

“Spirited away by the witches maybe.”

“This is no time for any of your feeble jokes, Penny Parker! That stupid horse must have wandered off while I was admiring your old valley and that rider!”

Penny remained undisturbed. “Oh, we’ll find the mare all right,” she said confidently. “She can’t be far away.”

The girls thought that they heard a crashing of underbrush to the left of the trail. Investigation did not disclose that the horse had gone that way. They could hear no hoofbeats, nor was any of the grass trampled.

“I’ll bet White Foot’s on her way back to Williams’Stable by this time,” Louise declared crossly. “Suchluck!” She sat down on a stone and put on her shoes and stockings.

“We didn’t hear the horse run off, Lou. She can’t be far.”

“Then you find her. I’ve had all I can stand. I’m tired and I’m hungry and I wish I’d never come on this wild, silly chase.” Tears began to trickle down Louise’s heat-mottled face.

Penny slid down from Bones and patted her chum’s arm awkwardly. Louise pulled away from her.

“Now don’t give me any pep talk or I’ll simply bawl,” she warned. “What am I going to do without a horse?”

“Why, that’s easy, Lou. We’ll ride double.”

“Back to Williams’ Stable?”

“Well, not tonight. It’s getting late and after coming this far it would be foolish to turn around and start right back.”

“It would be the most sensible act of our lives,”Louise retorted. “But then I might know you’d insist on pushing on. You and Christopher Columbus have a lot in common!”

“We came to find out about that Headless Horseman, didn’t we?”

“You did, I guess,” Louise sighed, getting up from the rock. “I just came along because I’m weak minded! Well, what’s the plan?”

“Let’s ride down to Delta and try to get a room for the night.”

Louise’s silence gave consent. She climbed up behind Penny on Bones and they jogged down the trail toward the turnpike.

“It’s queer how White Foot sneaked away without making a sound,” Penny presently commented. “According to the old legend strange things did happen in the Sleepy Hollow valley. The Spirit was supposed to wreak all sorts of vexations upon the inhabitants. Sometimes he would take the shape of a bear or a deer and lead bewildered hunters a merry chase through the woods.”

“You’re the one who is bewitched,” Louise broke in. “And if you ask me, you’ve been that way ever since you were born. There’s a little spark—something deep within you that keeps saying: ‘Go on, Penny. Sic ’em, Penny! Maybe you’ll find a mystery!’”

“Perhaps I shall too!”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’ve turned up some dandy news stories for your father’s paper. But this is different.”

“How so?”

“In the first place we both know there’s no such thing as a Headless Horseman. It must all be a joke.”

“Would you call that advertisement in the Hobostein paper a joke?”

“It could have been. We don’t know many of the facts.”

“That’s why we’re here.” Penny guided Bones onto the wide turnpike. Before she could add more, Louise’s grasp about her waist suddenly tightened.

“Listen, Penny! Someone’s coming!”

Penny drew rein. Distinctly, both girls could hear the clop-clop of approaching hoofbeats. Their hope that it might be White Foot was quickly dashed. A moment later the same horseman they had observed a few minutes earlier, swung around the bend.

The young man rapidly overtook the girls. From the way he grinned, they suspected that they presented a ridiculous sight as they rocked along on Bones’ swaying back. He sat his own horse, a handsome roan, with easy grace.

Louise tugged at her skirt which kept creeping above her knees. “He’s laughing at us!” she muttered under her breath.

The rider cantered up, then deliberately slowed his horse to a walk. Louise stole a quick sideways glance. The young man was dark-haired, about twenty-six and very good looking. His flashing brown eyes were friendly and so was his voice as he spoke a cheery, “’Lo, girls.”

“Hello,” Penny responded briefly. Louise immediately nudged her in the ribs, a silent warning that she considered the stranger “fresh.”

Nevertheless, Penny twisted sideways in the saddle the better to look at their road companion. He wore whipcord riding breeches and highly polished boots. From the well-tailored cut of his clothes she decided that he too was a comparative stranger to the hill country.

“Not looking for a horse by any chance, are you?” the young man inquired.

Louise’s snub nose came down out of the sky. “Oh, we are!” she cried. “Where did you see her?”

“A mare with a white foot? Her left hind one?”

“Yes, that’s White Foot!” Louise exclaimed joyfully. “The stupid creature wandered off.”

“Saw her making for the valley about five minutes ago. Like enough she turned in at Silas Malcom’s place.”

The name took Penny by surprise. Although she had hoped to find the old man who had visited the
Star
office, she had not thought it possible without a long search.

“Does Mr. Malcom live near here?” she inquired.

“Yes, his farm’s on down the pike. Want me to ride along and show you the way?”

Under the circumstance, Penny and Louise had no choice but to accept the offer. However, they both thought that the young man merely was making an excuse to accompany them. He seemed to read their minds for he said:

“I didn’t actually see your missing horse turn in at the Malcom place. Know why I think she’ll be there?”

“Perhaps you have supernatural powers,” Penny said lightly. “From what we hear, this valley is quite a place for witches and Headless Horsemen.”

The young man gave her an amused glance.

“The explanation is quite simple,” he laughed. “Silas used to own that horse. All horses have a strong homing instinct, you know.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Louise contributed a bit grimly.

“Guess I should introduce myself,” the young man resumed. “Name’s Joe Quigley. I’m the station agent at Delta.”

“We’re glad to meet you,” Penny responded. Though Louise scowled at her, she gave their own names. She added that they had come to the valley seeking information about the mysterious Headless Horseman.

“Friends of Mr. Burmaster?” Quigley inquired casually.

“Oh, no,” Penny assured him. “We just came for the fun of it. Is it true that some prankster has been causing trouble in the valley?”

“Prankster?”

“Yes, someone fixed up to resemble the Headless Horseman of fable.”

Quigley grinned broadly. “Well, now, you couldn’t prove it by me. Some folks say that on certain foggy nights the old Galloping Hessian does ride down out of the hills. But then there are folks who claim their butter won’t churn because it’s been bewitched. I never put much stock in such talk myself.”

“Then you’ve never actually seen such a rider?”

Joe Quigley remained silent. After a thoughtful interval he admitted: “Well, one night over a month ago, I did see something strange.”

“What was it?” Louise asked quickly.

Quigley pointed far up the hillside. “See that big boulder? Witching Rock it’s called.”

Penny nodded. “We were there only a few minutes ago.”

“At night fog rises up from the valley and gives the place a spooky look. Years ago a tramp was killed there. No one ever did learn the how or why of it.”

“What was it you saw?” Penny inquired.

“Can’t rightly say,” Quigley returned soberly. “I was on this same turnpike when I chanced to glance up toward that big rock. I saw something there in the mist and then the next minute it was gone.”

“Not the Headless Horseman?” Penny asked.

“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. I’d have thought I imagined it only I heard clattering hoofbeats. But I can tell you one thing about this valley.”

“What’s that?” asked Louise.

“All the inhabitants are said to be bewitched! That’s why I act so crazy myself.”

Penny tossed her head. “Oh, you’re just laughing at us,” she accused. “I suppose it does sound silly to say we came here searching for a Headless Horseman.”

“No, it’s not in the least silly,” Quigley corrected. “I might pay you a compliment by saying you impress me as very courageous young ladies. May I offer a word of advice?”

“Thank you, I don’t think we care for it.”

“Nevertheless, I aim to give it anyway.” Quigley grinned down at Penny. “You see, I know who you are. You’re Anthony Parker’s daughter, and you’ve built up a reputation for solving mysteries.”

Penny was astonished for she had not mentioned her father’s name.

“Never mind how I knew,” said Quigley, forestalling questions. “Here’s my tip. No one ever will collect Burmaster’s reward offer. So don’t waste time and energy trailing a phantom.”