“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“You will after you been here awhile,” the old man chuckled. “Where you gals calculatin’ to spend the night?”
“I wish we knew.”
“Me and the ole woman’d be glad to take you in, only we ain’t got no room fitten for city-raised gals. The Widder Lear’ll be glad to give you bed and fodder.”
The girls thanked Mr. Malcom, though secretly they were sure they would keep on until they reached Delta. A suspicion was growing in Penny’s mind that she had not come to the valley of her own free will. Rather she had been lured there by Old Silas’ Headless Horseman tale. She had assumed the old fellow to be a simple, trusting hillman, while in truth he meant to make use of her.
“Calculate you’re anxious-like to git down to the valley ’fore night sets on,” the old man resumed. “The turnpike’s no fitten place for a gal after dark.”
“You think we might meet the Headless Horseman?” Penny asked, smiling.
Old Silas deliberately allowed the question to pass.
“Jes’ follow the turnpike,” he instructed. “You’ll come fust to the Burmaster place. Then on beyond is the Widder Lear’s cabin. She’ll treat you right.”
Penny had intended to ask Old Silas if he still had a spinning wheel for sale. However, a glimpse of the darkening sky warned her there was no time to waste. She and Louise must hasten on unless they expected to be overtaken by night.