CHAPTER 18 FLOOD WATERS

Rain splattered steadily against the car windows as the noon passenger train pulled from the Witch Falls station. Penny and Louise watched the plump drops join into fat rivulets which raced one another to the sill. Since saying goodbye to Mrs. Lear, Silas Malcom, and their other valley friends, they had not done much talking. They felt too discouraged.

“I wish we’d decided to catch the train at Delta,” Penny remarked, settling herself for the long ride home. “Then we could have said goodbye to Joe Quigley. We’ll be passing through the station soon.”

Louise nodded morosely.

“Things certainly ended in one grand mess,” she commented. “Mrs. Lear got the deed to her property back, but the feud will be worse than ever now. Furthermore, we never did solve the Headless Horseman mystery—not that it matters.”

Reaching for a discarded newspaper which lay on the coach seat, Penny shot her chum a quick, knowing look.

“Just what does that mean?” Louise demanded alertly.

Penny pretended not to understand.

“You gave me one of those wise-owl looks!” Louise accused. “Just as if you had solved the mystery.”

“I assure you I haven’t, and never will now that we’re leaving the valley.”

“But you do have an idea who was back of the scheme?”

“Mrs. Lear, of course. We saw that much with our own eyes.”

“But we didn’t learn who actually rode the horse. Or did you?”

“Not exactly.”

“You do know then!”

“No,” Penny denied soberly. “I noticed something about the rider that made me think—but then I’d better not say it.”

“Please go on.”

“No, I have no proof. It would only be a guess.”

“I think you’re mean to keep me in the dark,” Louise pouted.

“Maybe I’ll tell you my theory later,” Penny replied, opening the newspaper. “Just now, I’m not in the mood.”

Both girls had been strangely depressed by their last few hours in the valley. Mrs. Lear had refused to come with them or to seek refuge in the hills. Gleeful at her victory over Mrs. Burmaster, she had seemed insensible to danger.

“Look at this headline,” Penny said, indicating the black type of the newspaper. “FLOOD MENACES RED VALLEY!”

Quickly the girls scanned the story. The account mentioned no facts new to them. It merely repeated that residents of the valley were alarmed by heavy up-state rains which had raised Lake Huntley to a dangerous height behind the dam.

“Wonder if Salt got any good pictures when he was here yesterday?” Penny mused. “Probably not. This is the sort of news story that doesn’t amount to much unless the big calamity falls.”

“You don’t think the dam actually will give way?” Louise asked anxiously.

“How should I know? Even the experts can’t agree.”

“At any rate we’re leaving here, and I’m glad. Somehow, I’ve had an uneasy feeling ever since last night.”

Penny nodded and glanced from the car window again. Rain kept splashing fiercely against the thick pane, half obscuring the distant hills. Along the right of way, muddy water ran in deep torrents, washing fence and hedgerow.

As the train snailed along toward Delta, there was increasing evidence of flood damage. A row of shacks near the railroad tracks was half submerged. Along the creek beds, giant trees bowed their branches to the swirling water. Many landmarks were completely blotted out.

“We’re coming into Delta now,” Penny presently observed. “Perhaps if we watch sharp we’ll see Joe Quigley and can say goodbye.”

The train stopped with a jerk while still some distance from the station. Then it pulled to a siding and there it waited. After ten minutes Penny sauntered through the train, thinking that if she could find an open door, she might get out and walk to the depot. Stopping a porter who was passing through the car, she asked him the cause of the delay.

“We’se waitin’ fo’ ordehs,” the colored man answered. “Anyhow, dat’s what de cap’n says.”

“The captain?”

“The conducteh o’ dis heah train.”

“Oh! And what does he say about the high water?”

“He says de track between heah and Hobostein’s a foot undeh.”

“Then that means the river must be coming up fast. Any danger we’ll be stranded at Delta?”

“You betteh talk to de conductor,” the porter said, jerking his head toward a fat, bespectacled trainman who had just swung aboard the coach. “Dat’s Mr. Johnson.”

Penny stopped the conductor to ask him what the chances were of getting through the flooded area.

“Doesn’t look so good,” he rumbled. “The rails are under at Mile Posts 792 and 825.”

“Then we’re tied up here?”

“No, we’re going as far as we can,” the conductor answered. “The dispatcher’s sending a work train on ahead to feel out the track. But we’ll be lucky to make ten miles an hour.”

Penny chatted with the conductor for a few minutes, then ambled back to the coach where she had left Louise. The prospects were most discouraging. At best it would be late afternoon before they could hope to reach Riverview.

“I’m starving too,” Louise said. “I suppose there’s no diner on this train.”

As a stop gap the girls hailed a passing vendor and bought candy bars. Having thus satisfied their hunger, they tried to read magazines.

Presently the car started with a jerk. However, instead of proceeding toward the station it backed into the railroad yard.

“Now what?” Penny demanded impatiently. “Aren’t we ever going to start?”

The porter hastened through the car, his manner noticeably nervous and tense. He paid no heed to a woman passenger who sought to detain him.

“Something’s wrong!” Penny said with conviction.

“A wash-out, do you think?”

“Might be. Let’s see what we can learn.”

With a vague feeling of foreboding they could not have explained, the girls arose and followed the porter. Something was amiss. They were certain of it.

Losing sight of the colored man, they kept on until they reached the rear platform. Penny started to open the screen door. Just then the train whistle sounded a shrill, unending blast.

Startled, Louise gripped her chum’s hand, listening tensely.

In the car behind, they heard the conductor’s husky voice. He was shouting: “Run! Run, for your lives! Take to the hills!”

Penny was stunned for an instant. Then seizing Louise’s arm, she pulled her out on the train platform. At first glance nothing appeared wrong. The tracks were well above the river level. Between the road bed and a high hill on the left, flood water was running like a mill race, but the ditch was narrow and represented no immediate danger.

“Listen!” Penny cried.

From far away there came a deep, rumbling roar not unlike the sound of distant thunder.

Leaning far over the train platform railing, Penny gazed up the tracks. The sight which met her eyes left her momentarily paralyzed.

Down the valley charged a great wall of water, taking everything before it. Trees had been mowed down. Crushed houses were being carried along like children’s blocks. Far up the track a switch engine was lifted bodily from the rails and hurled backwards.

Penny waited to see no more.

“The dam’s given away!” she shouted. “Quick, Louise! Climb over the railing and run for your life!”