“The rain should let up soon.”
“It should, but it won’t,” Mrs. Lear declared. “Why don’t you stay until tomorror anyhow? Then you could go to the barn dance tonight at Silas’ place.”
At the moment, the girls were not greatly intrigued at the prospect of attending a barn dance. The steady rain had depressed them. Though the long journey to Red Valley had proven interesting, it scarcely seemed worth the exhausting effort. They had learned very little about the so-called Headless Horseman and doubted that any truly valuable information would come their way.
“If you stay over maybe you’ll git a chance to see that hoss-ridin’ ghost,” Mrs. Lear said slyly. “Seems like it’s mostly on bad nights that he does his prowlin’.”
The girls helped with the dishes. They made the bed and watched Mrs. Lear sew on a rag rug. At intervals they wandered to the windows. Rain fell steadily, showing not the slightest sign of a let up.
“Didn’t I tell you,” Mrs. Lear said gleefully. “It’s settlin’ for a good healthy pour. You might jest as well calculate on stayin’ another night.”
“But our parents will be expecting us home,” Louise protested.
“Send ’em a wire from Delta,” Mrs. Lear urged. “Reckon this rain’ll maybe slacken a bit come afternoon.”
Throughout the long morning Louise and Penny wandered restlessly about the house. Now and then they sought without success to draw information from Mrs. Lear about the mysterious prankster. From the merry twinkle in her eyes they were convinced she knew a great deal. Pry it from her they could not.
“Maybe that Headless Horseman ain’t nobody human,” she chuckled. “Maybe it’s a real haunt. I mind the time somebody witched my cow. The stubborn critter didn’t give no milk for eight days steady.”