Author's Ledger: Hello my fair readers. It's been an awfully long while hasn't it? Ah well, at least I had the chance to write this down. I've managed to update several of my other stories as well. A few sentences here and there and finally this chapter was ready. I have already informed you that I have several other works in progress, though they do not appear here. So since I've managed to write new parts for about four of them I have a sense of pride in myself. But I digress. Allow me to thank my reviewers and readers, who so faithfully put up with the rather sporadic updates. And now, ladies and gentleman, I present to you, the next chapter.

Your Faithful Author,

Danbamina

Helen watched as Icabod and Masbeth hurriedly prepared to go into the Western Wood skeptically. The notion was enough to make her laugh. She had to constantly remind herself that this was not funny in the least bit and should be talking him out of it. But something about it caused her to repress the laughter time and time again. She left the room and had a good laugh for a moment as Icabod considered what cutlery to take with him. She came back in the room and forced a politely puzzled look to remain on her face.

"Icabod, dear, you can't be serious about staying through the night." Liz was saying as she removed a loaf of bread from the food pack and re-wrapped it more carefully.

"Of course I'm serious, Liz, this is the only way I can think of to figure out who is controlling the Hessian." Icabod took the loaf of bread back from her and shoved it into the pack, "It would go a lot quicker if you'd stop unpacking my things."

"Icabod. You can go into the Wood, just don't stay the night." Helen stepped forward and placed a hand on Icabod's as he withdrew it from the food pack. Icabod froze and looked into her eyes, a flicker of resignation flashed across his features. Helen smiled, "You don't need to spend the night there, we're not far from it and you can go back early tomorrow morning."

Icabod looked away from her face, Helen waited patiently, he looked back down at her and sighed, "You win. We won't stay the night in the Western Wood."

Helen jumped up and hugged him tightly around the neck, "Thank you Icabod!" She exclaimed excitedly, at least Icabod wasn't going to be killed and now she could take him more seriously.

Icabod patted Helen's back awkwardly, "You're welcome?"

Helen pulled away and straightened Icabod's hair for him, "Your hair is all mussed. Can't have that now can we? It presents a bad image to the public of their dear Constable." Helen finished her mothering and stood back from him, "There. You can go out now and look respectable at the same time! Isn't it just the best thing ever, Liz?" Helen practically squealed out.

"Miss Helen that may be over-reacting a little bit, but it is nice for Master Icabod to look respectable when he goes out." Liz stated calmly as she began to unpack several of the ruck sacks that Icabod and Masbeth had ready.

"Sir, shouldn't we be going now? It's getting dark out." Masbeth asked letting the curtain drop from his hand.

Icabod started and looked out of the window like wise, "Yes. We should be going. Come along Masbeth." Icabod headed for the front door with Masbeth trailing close behind. Helen followed behind Masbeth. Icabod swung up onto Gunpowder and looked down at Helen's anxious face, "I'll be back soon. Don't worry."

"Worried? Who says I'm worried?" Helen crossed her arms across her chest and set a determined look on her face.

"No one."

"Good, because I'm not." Helen turned her back on Icabod for a moment and then turned back around, "You'll be careful, though, won't you?" She reached up and grabbed his hand, pulling him down a bit closer, "Won't you, Icabod?"

"Of course I'll be careful."

Helen narrowed her eyes and pulled him closer to her, "Promise?"

"Yes! Now let go or I'm going to fall off!" Icabod rushed out, Helen let go and watched calmly as he scrambled back into the proper riding position.

"Ahem." Masbeth coughed, Helen and Icabod looked over at him "We'd better be going sir."

"Of course. We'll be back soon, Helen! Liz!" Icabod called as he and Masbeth cantered off. Helen watched as their forms grew smaller and smaller, biting her lip and thinking hard. Something didn't feel quite right about this particular night. It was getting dark far too early. Helen turned and walked slowly away from the house, still deep in thought, completely ignoring Liz's calling about supper.

***

Icabod and Masbeth cantered away from the house on the hill into the deepening darkness. The only thing that broke the unnatural silence of the Hollow was the sounds of Gunpowder's and Ghost's hooves on the packed dirt road leading to the Western Wood. Icabod reached behind him and made sure that the shovel was still attached to the back of his saddle along with his trusty pistol, hatchet and scientist's bag. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't need any of those things, but he also doubted it. Icabod decided to concentrate on getting to the Tree of the Dead. He couldn't really remember the way and didn't want to wander around in the Western Wood aimlessly. It was definitely haunted. And by violent ghosts for that matter. Icabod had put a brave face on for Helen but he was sure she'd seen through it.

"Sir. We're here." Masbeth had pulled Ghost to a halt and Gunpowder had copied the younger horse's movements. Icabod looked up at the imposing mass of trees that made up the border of the Western Wood and gulped. A fog was creeping along the ground behind the trees but not in front of them. Icabod cast a sideways look at Masbeth and gulped again, "Sir, I think we should go in now. The light's fading fast and unless you really do want to stay the night I think it would be best to go on in."

Icabod gulped one more time, "Yes. Let's go in and scope the place out and then head home until morning, shall we?"

"Are you stalling?"

"No."

"Alright then. You first." Masbeth motioned to the small dirt path that wound through the old, barren trees.

"Why don't you go first? You were all gun-hoe a moment ago."

"No thanks, Icabod, I'd feel much safer if you were to go first." Masbeth backed his horse up a few steps and smiled encouragingly at Icabod.

During their pointless argument neither of them had noticed the fog that had lain within the trees creeping out from the trunks like so many spectral fingers to snuff the torches that were lit at the edges of the path. Nor did they notice the distant sound of pounding hooves and a ghostly, high-pitched laughter. Masbeth was the first to notice the distant figure of a single horse galloping down the path towards them from among the trees.

"Sir….I think it'd be best if we got into those trees now." Masbeth stuttered out pointing behind Icabod's head at a thick, but accessible stand of trees.

"If you go first." Icabod replied haughtily, he would not be beaten by a young boy.

"Fine!" Masbeth exclaimed spurring Ghost forward and into the stand of trees. Icabod wheeled Gunpowder around, still oblivious to everything that was occurring and the pair of them darted into the trees just as the Hessian flew past.

Icabod turned and stared, pale-faced at Masbeth, "Did you….?" He managed to ask in a squeaky voice before he fainted against Gunpowder's neck.

Masbeth sighed and skillfully pulled Gunpowder's reins over his head and led the old horse slowly back home, "So much for investigating the Western Wood at night…." He thought to himself as they left the stand of trees.

***

Author's Ledger: One of these days that weak constitution of Icabod's will get him into serious trouble. By the way. Does anyone have any suspicions about who is the culprit??? I'm very interested to know. Because I'm honestly faced with a delimma about that. Should the Horseman be acting of his will? OR should he once again be the instrument of someone's crooked desires? I'm leaning towards the second one myself but....well, it'd be far more interesting if he were acting of his own will, no? I do hope you enjoyed the chapter my lovely readers. I worked hard on it, though the work was scattered through time.

Please do review. Reviews make writing this so much more enjoyable.

Your Obedient Writer,

Danbamina

PS: I am very appreciative of your support. I rarely share my work with others because I am afraid of others not enjoying it as much as I do. Though that is not the case here. I have had that happen to me before and I must say, it is very demoralizing. Please understand I am not looking for sympathy or empathy, I am merely sharing a bit of myself with you all. Good day.