Hoofbeats on the Turnpike Part 9

"I'll be willing to pay any amount to be rid of that so-called ghost who annoys us here at Sleepy Hollow," Mr. Burmaster said bitterly. "Night after night my wife has had no rest. The slightest sound terrifies her."

"Tell us more about the mysterious rider," Penny urged. "What time does he appear?"

"Oh, there's no predicting that. Often he rides over the bridge on stormy or foggy nights. Then again it's apt to be just after dusk. Tonight we thought we had the scamp, but it proved to be only a mischievous boy."

"Your workmen stand guard?"

"They have orders to watch this bridge day and night. But the men are a lazy lot. They wander off or they go to sleep."

"Isn't it possible that the disturbance always has been caused by a boy--perhaps this lad who clattered over the bridge tonight?"

"Impossible!" Mr. Burmaster snapped impatiently. "I've seen the Headless Horseman at least five times myself."

"You mean the rider actually has no head?" Louise interposed in awe.

"The appearance is that. Of course there's no question but someone from the village or the hills has been impersonating Irving's celebrated character of fiction. The point is, the joke's gone too far!"

"I should think so," Louise murmured sympathetically.

"My wife and I came to this little valley with only one thought. We wanted to build a fine home for ourselves amid peaceful surroundings. We brought in city workmen, a clever architect. No expense was spared to make this house and estate perfect. But when we tried to recreate the atmosphere of Sleepy Hollow, we didn't antic.i.p.ate getting a ghost with it."

"When did the trouble first start?" Penny asked.

"Almost from the hour of our arrival. The country folks didn't like it because we imported city labor. They hindered our efforts. The women were abusive to my wife. Then last Halloween, the Headless Horseman clattered over this bridge."

"Couldn't it have been a holiday prank?"

"We thought so at first, but a month later, the same thing happened again. This time the scamp tossed a pebble against our bedroom window.

Since then the rider has been coming at fairly frequent intervals."

"If you know it's a prank why should it worry you?" Penny inquired.

"A thing like that wears one down after awhile," the owner of the estate said wearily. "For myself I shouldn't mind, but my wife's going to pieces."

"Was it your wife we heard scream?" Louise asked, seeking to keep the conversational ball rolling.

"Yes, she's apt to go off the deep end whenever anyone rides fast over the bridge. My wife--"

Mr. Burmaster did not complete what he had intended to say. At that moment a soft padding of footsteps was heard, a creaking of boards on the bridge. From the direction of the house came a tall, shadowy figure.

"What were you saying about me, John?" The voice was that of a woman, shrill and strident.

"My wife," murmured the estate owner. He turned toward her. "Matilda," he said gently, "these girls are strangers to the Valley--"

"You were complaining about me to them!" the woman accused. "Oh, you needn't deny it! I distinctly heard you! You're always saying things to hurt my feelings. You don't care how I suffer. Isn't it enough that I have to live in this horrible community, among such cruel hateful people without you turning against me too?"

"Please, Matilda--"

"Don't 'Matilda' me! Apologize at once."

"Why, certainly I apologize," Mr. Burmaster said soothingly. "I was only telling the girls how nervous it makes you when anyone rides at a fast pace over the bridge."

"And why shouldn't I be nervous?" the woman demanded. "Since we've come to this community, I've been subjected to every possible insult! I suppose you let that rider get away again?"

"He was only a mischievous boy."

"I don't care who he was!" the woman cried. "I want him caught and turned over to the authorities. I want everyone who rides over this bridge arrested!"

"This is a public highway, Matilda. When we built this footbridge over the brook we had to grant permission for pedestrians and horseback riders to pa.s.s."

"Then make them change the ruling! Aren't you the richest man in the Valley? Or doesn't that mean anything?"

Mr. Burmaster glanced apologetically at Penny and Louise. The girls, quite taken aback by the woman's tirade, felt rather sorry for him. It was plain to see that Mrs. Burmaster was not a well woman. Her sharp, angular face was drawn as if from constant worry, and she kept patting nervously at the stiff rolls of her hair.

"Well, I guess we'd better be moving on," Penny said significantly to Louise.

"Yes, we must," her companion agreed with alacrity. "Mr. Burmaster, is Mrs. Lear's place on down this road?"

The owner of Sleepy Hollow was given no opportunity to answer. Before he could speak, his wife stepped closer, glaring up at Louise in the saddle.

"So you're friends of Mrs. Lear?" she demanded mockingly. "I suppose that old hag sent you here to snoop and pry and annoy me!"

"Goodness, no!" gasped Louise.

"We've never even seen the woman," Penny added. "Silas Malcom told us that Mrs. Lear might give us a room for the night."

"Silas Malcom!" Mrs. Burmaster seized upon the name. "He's another who tries to make trouble for us!"

"If you're in need of a place to stay, we'll be glad to have you remain with us," Mr. Burmaster invited. "We have plenty of room."

Mrs. Burmaster remained silent, but in the semi-darkness, the girls saw her give her husband a quick nudge. No need to be told that they were unwelcome by the eccentric mistress of Sleepy Hollow.

"Thank you, we couldn't possibly stay," Penny said, gathering up the reins.

She and Louise walked their horses single file over the creaking bridge.

Just as they reached the far end Mr. Burmaster called to them. Pulling up, they waited for him.

"Please don't mind my wife," he said in an undertone. "She doesn't mean half what she says."

"We understand," Penny a.s.sured him kindly.

"You said you were interested in the Headless Horseman," the estate owner went on hurriedly. "Well, my offer holds. I'll pay a liberal reward to anyone who can learn the ident.i.ty of the prankster. It's no boy. I'm sure of that."

Penny replied that she and Louise would like to help if they knew how.

"We'll talk about that part later on," Mr. Burmaster said. He glanced quickly over his shoulder, observing that his wife was coming. "No chance now. You'll stay with Mrs. Lear tonight?"

"If she'll take us in."