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Read Ebook: Prehistoric Men by Braidwood Robert J Robert John
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Ebook has 1153 lines and 30153 words, and 24 pages
"Now what became of that old man?" Penny asked herself in perplexity. "I didn't hear him steal away. He couldn't have vanished into thin air! Or did he?"
Thinking that Mr. Malcom might have gone back to the want-ad department, she hastily returned there. To her anxious inquiry, the clerk responded with a grin:
"No, Old Whiskers hasn't been here. If you find him, ask for his address. He forgot to leave it."
Decidedly disturbed, Penny ran down the hall which gave exit to the street. Breathlessly she asked the elevator attendant if he had seen an old man leave the building.
"A fellow with a long white beard?"
"Yes, and a cane. Which way did he go?"
"Can't tell you that."
"But you did see him?" Penny demanded impatiently.
"Sure, he went out the door a minute or two ago. He was talking to himself like he was a bit cracked in the head. He was chuckling as if he knew a great joke."
"And I'm it," Penny muttered.
She darted through the revolving doors to the street. With the noon hour close at hand throngs of persons poured from the various offices. Amid the bustling, hurrying crowd she saw no one who remotely resembled the old man of the hills.
"He slipped away on purpose!" she thought half-resentfully. "He gave me the newspaper clipping just to stir my interest, and then left without explaining a thing!"
Abandoning the search as hopeless, Penny again reread the clipping. Five hundred dollars offered for information leading to the capture of a Headless Horseman! Why, it sounded fantastic. But the advertisement actually had appeared in a country newspaper. Therefore, it must have some basis of fact.
She went quickly on, past a long row of desks where other reporters tapped out their stories. She nodded to Mr. DeWitt, the city editor, waved at Salt Sommers, photographer, and entered her father's private office.
"Hello, Dad," she greeted him cheerfully. "Busy?"
"I was."
Anthony Parker put aside the mouthpiece of a dictaphone machine to smile fondly at his one and only child. He was a tall, lean man and a recent illness had left him even thinner than before.
Penny sank into an upholstered chair in front of her father's desk.
"If it's money you want," began Mr. Parker, "the answer is no! Not one cent until your allowance is due. And no sob story please."
"Why, Dad." Penny shot him an injured look. "I wasn't even thinking of money--at least not such a trivial amount as exchanges hands on my allowance day. Nothing less than five hundred dollars interests me."
"Five hundred dollars!"
"Oh, I aim to earn it myself," Penny assured him hastily.
"How may I ask?"
"Maybe by catching a Headless Horseman," Penny grinned mischievously. "It seems that one is galloping wild out Red Valley way."
"Red Valley? Never heard of the place." Mr. Parker began to show irritation. "Penny, what are you talking about anyway?"
"This," explained Penny, spreading the clipping on the desk. "An old fellow who looked like Rip Van Winkle gave it to me. Then he disappeared before I could ask any questions. What do you think, Dad?"
Mr. Parker read the advertisement at a glance. "Bunk!" he exploded. "Pure bunk!"
"But Dad," protested Penny hotly. "It was printed in the Hobostein Weekly."
"I don't care who published it or where. I still say 'bunk!'"
"No chance you'll ever let me forget!"
"Dad, I have a hunch," Penny went on, ignoring the jibe. "There's a big story in this Headless Horseman business! I just feel it."
"I suppose you'd like to have me assign you the task of tracking down your Front Page gem?"
"Now you're talking my language!"
"Penny, can't you see it's only a joke?" Mr. Parker asked in exasperation. "The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow! That story was written years ago by a man named Washington Irving. Or didn't you know?"
"Oh, I've read the 'Legend of Sleepy Hollow,'" Penny retorted loftily. "I remember one of the characters was Ichabod Crane. He was chased by the Headless Horseman and nearly died of fright."
"A nice bit of fiction," commented Mr. Parker. He tapped the newspaper clipping. "And so is this. The best place for it is in the scrap basket."
"Oh, no, it isn't!" Penny leaped forward to rescue the precious clipping. Carefully she folded it into her purse. "Dad, I'm convinced Sleepy Hollow must be a real place. Why can't I go there to interview Mr. Burmaster?"
"Did you say Burmaster?"
"Yes, the person who offers the reward. He signed himself J. Burmaster."
"That name is rather familiar," Mr. Parker said thoughtfully. "Wonder if it could be John Burmaster, the millionaire? Probably not. But I recall that a man by that name built an estate called Sleepy Hollow somewhere in the hill country."
"There!" cried Penny triumphantly. "You see the story does have substance after all! May I make the trip?"
"How would you find Burmaster?"
"A big estate shouldn't be hard to locate. I can trace him through the Hobostein Weekly. What do you say, Dad?"
"The matter is for Mrs. Weems to decide. Now scram out of here! I have work to do."
"Thanks for letting me go," laughed Penny, giving him a big hug. "Now about finances--but we'll discuss that angle later."
Blowing her father an airy kiss, she pranced out of the office.
Penny fairly trod on clouds as she raced toward the home of her chum, Louise Sidell. Her dark-haired chum sat listlessly on the porch reading a book, but she jumped to her feet as she saw her friend. From the way Penny took the steps at one leap she knew there was important news to divulge.
"What's up?" she demanded alertly.
"Hop, skip and count three!" laughed Penny. "We're about to launch forth into a grand and glorious adventure. How would you like to go in search of a Headless Horseman?"
"Any kind of a creature suits me," chuckled Louise. "When do we start and where?"
"Lead me to a map and I'll try to answer your questions. Our first problem is to find a place called Red Valley."
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