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.