“Because two stubborn women refuse to listen to reason. Mrs. Burmaster won’t budge because she says there’s no danger—that it’s a scheme to get her out of the valley. Mrs. Lear won’t leave her home while the Burmasters stay.”
“What’s to be done?”
“Ask me something easy.” The telegraph instrument was chattering the Delta station call again so Quigley turned to answer it. “If you see Mrs. Lear before you leave here, try to reason with her,” he tossed over his shoulder. “I’ve given up.”
The girls nodded goodbye and went outside. Silas Malcom’s wagon was nowhere to be seen, and after a brief debate they decided to walk to Mrs. Lear’s place.
“Maybe we still can catch a ride home with Salt,” Louise remarked dubiously. “With all this talk about the dam, I certainly don’t relish spending a night in the valley.”
“Oh, Silas said there was no immediate danger unless it rains again,” Penny reminded her chum. “What Joe Quigley said about Mrs. Lear worries me. We must try to get her to leave the valley.”
“Why not move a mountain?” Louise countered. “It would be a lot easier.”
When the girls reached Mrs. Lear’s cabin they discovered that word of their arrival in Delta had traveled ahead of them.
“Your room’s all ready fer you,” the old lady beamed as she greeted them at the door. “This time I hope you’re stayin’ fer a week.”
Nothing seemed changed at the Lear cabin. Mrs. Lear had spent the morning canning fruit, and the kitchen table was loaded with containers. A washing flapped lazily on the line. While waiting for the clothes to dry, the old lady filled in her time by sewing on a rag rug of elaborate pattern.