“This is a strange advertisement,” Penny commented aloud. “The only Headless Horseman to my knowledge was the famous Galloping Hessian in the story, ‘Legend of Sleepy Hollow.’ But in reality such things can’t exist.”
“Maybe not,” said the old man, “but we got one in the valley just the same. An’ if what folks says is so, that Headless Horseman’s likely to make a heap o’ trouble fer someone before he’s through his hauntin’.”
Penny stared soberly into the twinkling blue eyes of her aged companion. As a character he completely baffled her. Did he mean what he said or was he merely trying to lead her on with hints of mystery? At any rate, the bait was too tempting to resist.
“Tell me more,” she urged. “Exactly what do you know about this advertisement?”
“Nothin’. Nary a thing, Miss. But there’s haunts at Sleepy Hollow and don’t you think there ain’t. I’ve seen ’em myself from Witching Rock.”
“And where is Witching Rock?” Even the words intrigued Penny.
“Jest a place on Humpy Hill lookin’ down over the Valley.”
Finding her companion none too willing to impart additional information, Penny reread the advertisement. The item had appeared in the Hobostein County paper only the previous week. The words themselves rather than the offer of a reward enchanted her.
“Headless Horseman—Witching Rock!” she thought excitedly. “Why, even the names scream of mystery!”
Aloud she urged: “Mr. Malcom, do tell me more about the matter. Who is Mr. Burmaster?”