“Tickled to have you ride along,” Salt cut in. He picked up his Speed Graphic camera and slung a supply case over his shoulder. “Well, let’s shove off for the wet country.”
The ride by press car to Delta was far from pleasant. Salt drove too fast. The road was slippery once the auto left the pavement and ditches brimmed with brown muddy water.
At one point they were forced to detour five miles to avoid a bridge that had washed out. Instead of reaching Delta early in the day as they had planned, it was well into the afternoon before they arrived.
“Where shall I drop you girls?” Salt inquired wearily. “I’ll have to work fast if I get any pictures this afternoon.”
“Drop us anywhere,” Penny said. “We’ll spend the night with Mrs. Lear and go home by train tomorrow.”
“Wonder which way it is to the Huntley Dam?”
“We’ll show you the road,” Penny offered. “It’s directly on your way to let us off at the Malcom place. I want to stop there to see about a spinning wheel.”
Guided by the two girls, Salt drove up the winding hillside road to Silas Malcom’s little farm. There Penny and Louise said goodbye to him and sought to renew acquaintances with the elderly hillman. The old man got up from a porch rocker to greet them cordially.
“Well! Well! I knowed you’d come back one o’ these days,” he chuckled. “Thank ye mightily fer puttin’ them write-ups about Red Valley in the paper.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t have much to do with it,” Penny said modestly. “Red Valley really is a news center these days.”