Part 14 (1/2)

”How far?”

”Oh, not more than three--four miles.”

”Mrs. Jones drives a car?” Salt asked casually.

”Her?” The filling station man laughed. ”Not on your life! She has an old rattle-trap her husband left her when he died, but she doesn't take it out of the shed often enough to keep air in the tires.”

Penny and Salt inquired the way to the widow's home.

”You can't miss it,” replied the station man. ”Straight on down the swamp road about three miles. First house you come to on the right hand side of Crissey Road. But you won't likely find the widow up at this hour. She goes to bed with the chickens!”

On the highway once more, Salt and Penny debated their next move. Jerry's failure to show up at Caleb Corners only partially relieved their anxiety. Now they could only speculate upon whether the reporter had remained in Riverview or had driven past the filling station without being seen.

”Since we've come this far, why not go on to the Widow Jones' place?”

Salt proposed. ”She may have seen Jerry. In any case, we can question her about that car she owns.”

b.u.mping along on the rutty road, they presently rounded a bend and on a sideroad saw a small, square house which even in its desolation had a look of st.u.r.dy liveability.

”That must be the place,” Salt decided, slowing the car. ”No lights so I guess she's abed.”

”I see one at the rear!” Penny exclaimed. ”Someone is up!”

With a jerk, Salt halted the car beside a mailbox which stood on a high post. A brick walk, choked with weeds, led to the front door and around to a back porch.

Through an uncurtained window, the pair glimpsed a tall, wiry woman filling an oil lamp in the kitchen.

As Salt rapped on the door, they saw her start and reach quickly for a shotgun which stood in a corner of the room.

”Who's there?” she called sharply.

”We're from Riverview,” answered Penny.

Rea.s.sured by a feminine voice, the woman opened the door. She towered above them, a quaint figure in white s.h.i.+rtwaist and a long flowing black skirt which swept the bare floor of the kitchen.

”Good evening,” said Penny. ”I hope we didn't startle you.”

Slowly the widow's eyes traveled over the pair. She laid the shotgun aside and then said evenly:

”'Pears like you did. Hain't in the habit o' having visitors this time o'

night. Whar be ye from and what do you want?”

Salt told of their search for Jerry, carefully describing the reporter.

”Hain't seen anyone like that,” the Widow Jones said at once. ”No one been by on this road since sundown 'cepting old Ezekiel Hawkins.”

”By the way, do you drive a car?” Salt questioned.

”Not if I kin keep from it,” the widow retorted. ”Cars is the ruination o' civilization! Last time I tried to drive to town, backed square into a big sycamore and nigh onto knocked all my teeth out!”

”So you sold your car?” Salt interposed.