“We shouldn’t mind,” Penny admitted. “Besides, we’d be doing the Burmasters a good turn to help them get rid of their ghost rider.”
“That you would,” agreed the old lady exactly as if the Burmasters were her best friends. “Yes, indeed, you’ve come in a good cause.”
“Then perhaps you can help us,” Louise said eagerly. “You must have heard about the Headless Horseman.”
Mrs. Lear nodded brightly.
“Perhaps you know who the person is,” Penny added.
“Maybe, maybe not.” Mrs. Lear shrugged, and getting quickly up, began to carry the dishes to the sink. The firm tilt of her thin chin warned the girls that so far as she was concerned, the topic was closed.
Rather baffled, Penny and Louise made a feeble attempt to reopen the conversation. Failing, they offered to wipe the dishes for their hostess.
“Oh, it ain’t no bother to do ’em myself,” Mrs. Lear said, shooing them away. “You both look tired enough to drop. Just go up to the spare bedroom and slip beneath the covers.”
Louise and Penny needed no further urging. Carrying their knapsacks and a lamp Mrs. Lear gave them, they stumbled up the stairs. The spare bedroom was a huge, rather cold chamber, furnished with a giant fourposter bed and a chest of drawers. The only floor covering was a homemade rag rug.
Louise quickly undressed and left Penny to blow out the light. The latter, moving to the latticed window, stood for a moment gazing out across the moonlit fields toward the Burmaster estate.