CHAPTER XIX

Falco

The man shook her again. Judy stared at him, recognizing him as Falco, the gangster who had warned her to keep away from the estate he and his thieving friends seemed to have taken over. Fortunately, he did not recognize her in her torn slacks and soggy sweater. Her clinging, wet hair probably didn’t look the same color as it had the day before.

“Did you say ... I turned off the water in the house?” she questioned dazedly.

“Yes, and everywhere else! Now beat it before you do any more damage. Wait! What did you want, anyway?” he asked menacingly.

“I’ve been in the water, as you can see,” Judy replied. “Weren’t you pretty sure there was somebody down underneath the fountain when you turned it on? Or weren’t you the one who turned it on?”

“Me?” He seemed surprised. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“I’m asking you. Why would you?” Judy retorted. “You might have drowned me. Or were youtryingto drown someone?”

“I’m surprised,” he said, smiling slyly, “that you could think such a thing. If anyone gets drowned down there it will be a most unfortunate accident. Of course,” he added, “we have been bothered by prowlers lately. People get curious about a place like this. It’s not always healthy for them. But I guess you found out that much.”

“I didn’t find out nearly as much as I’d like to,” declared Judy, the heat of her anger warming her a little. “Were you trying to drown somebody? We were down under it when the water was turned on. I thought we were trapped at first, but I managed to get through the cascade and turn all these valves. I didn’t mean to shut off the water at the house,” she hurried on to explain. “I only meant to turn off the fountain.”

“You turned it off all right,” he told her, “but you wasted your time. We like it on!”

With that he began turning one of the valves, but Judy caught his hand and bent it behind him, crying hysterically as she held it in a tight grip, “No! No! You mustn’t turn it on! You did it before, but I won’t let you do it again. I’ll hold both your hands and yell if you try it!”

“No, you won’t! I’ll do the yelling. Edith!” he shouted as he tried unsuccessfully to shake Judy off and turn the valve. The same determination that had carried her through the water was giving her almost savage strength.

“Get her away!” Falco shouted to a dark-haired woman who now came running through the half-open door and stopped abruptly, an amused expression coming over her face. “What’s the matter with you?” he cried. “Edith! Don’t just stand there. Grab her!”

“Oh-oh, so it’s you again,” the newcomer said, staring at Judy. “Mister,” she added, sneering at Falco, “I think you’re in trouble. Way in!”

“What do you mean I’m in trouble?”

The valve forgotten, Falco whirled on the dark woman and demanded an explanation. Judy had to release his hands, but she still kept close watch to make sure he did not turn on the fountain. Now she knew which valve was the right one. Whatever it cost her, she intended to make sure it was not turned. Falco was paying little attention to her now. His anger was directed elsewhere.

“This little hobo wouldn’t have jumped me if I’d had my gun,” he said furiously to the woman called Edith.

“What happened to it?” she asked. “Did the big bad G-man take it away from you?”

Peter did it!This thought cheered Judy in spite of her predicament. If Peter suspected the Brandt estate was being used as a gang hideout, he’d be back.

Falco’s voice rose angrily. “Think I need a gun to take care of her? I’ll stop her—”

“Unless she stops you first,” the woman informed him. “She and her brother came to the house this morning. Said they wanted to interview someone. I didn’t see them, but I heard them talking to Stanley. She wanted to meet someone of importance. Well, she’s met the great Falco. He’s someone of importance. Anyway,hethinks so.”

“None of your cracks,” the gang leader warned. “Is this true?” he demanded, turning to Judy. “Were you and your brother at the house this morning?”

“We were,” she replied fearlessly, “and so were the police.”

“They had a search warrant,” the woman put in. “I told them to go ahead and search the house. Naturally, they didn’t find anything. We’re friends of the Brandts, living in their house while they’re on vacation. It was as simple as that.”

“What about the fountain?” Falco demanded.

“They didn’t go near it. They only searched the tower. I showed them around myself when I saw them heading for it. And while I was there with them I turned on the fountain.”

“You turned it on?” cried Judy, unable to control her feelings any longer. “Thenyou’reto blame for what happened!”

“What did happen?” asked Falco.

“Nothing,” replied the woman, who, Judy realized, must be Mrs. Cubberling. “They thanked me and drove away.”

“Then why do you say I’m in trouble?”

“Because of her!” Mrs. Cubberling pointed a finger at Judy.

“I can take care of her—easy. But first I want to hear her side of the story. She hasn’t told me why she came here.”

“Today or yesterday?” asked Judy, trying to confuse him.

“Were you here yesterday, too?” Falco demanded. “But of course you were! I warned you not to come back. Can’t you read? There’s a sign down the road warning trespassers away. My men tell me a car drove right past it yesterday. There were two girls in it. Were you one of them?”

“What if I was?” asked Judy, glad that he had not noticed Lorraine when she ducked. Suddenly Judy became aware of the seriousness of her situation.

“Speak up!” the gang leader barked. “Why did you come here? And I do mean today. I want the truth.”

“You’ll get it,” Judy said quietly, her hand still on the valve to keep him from turning it. “It’s exactly the way she told you. I came with my brother to get a story. He has a weekly column in theFarringdon Daily Herald. It’s called ‘Meet Your Neighbor,’ and we decided that you were a neighbor the public might like to meet. We wanted an interview. That was all. We were going to ask about your business, your hobbies—things like that.”

“Go ahead, Falco! Tell her your hobbies.” Edith Cubberling laughed mockingly. “You have a lot of them.”

“I haven’t time to listen,” Judy said hurriedly, not liking the ugly tone of voice the woman was using. “I have to go back to the fountain—”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” said Mrs. Cubberling, her stocky frame blocking the doorway.

“She has to go back!” Falco tipped back his head and laughed. “Did you hear that, Edith? She’s half drowned and shivering with cold, but she has to go back to the fountain!”

Judy was still guarding the valve when the woman sprang forward with the ferocity of a tiger and pushed her away from it.

“This will teach you not to go poking around where you’re not wanted,” she snarled as she struck Judy sharply across the cheek.

“This will teach you not to go poking around where you’re not wanted!”

The blow was so unexpected that it knocked Judy off her feet and sent her spinning into a corner where she lay helpless.

“That’ll hold you for a while,” the gang leader told her. “Come on, Edith! We have to take care of her brother if the water hasn’t already done it.”

A Passing Shadow

“Wait!” cried Judy. Anything, she thought, to thwart their deadly plans. She knew now that her strength was not enough, but if she could only give Horace more time, keep this evil pair away from the fountain—“They mustn’t know they’ve hurt me,” she told herself. “I’ll keep on talking. I’ll keep on stalling them. But, please God, let help come soon!”

Already exhausted and chilled to the bone, Judy had scarcely felt the vicious blow. From sheer fatigue she was unable to pick herself up from where she had fallen, but there were other ways to stop them.

“There’s something I ought to tell you,” she called, hoping to, at least, delay them and give Horace a chance to escape and drag Dick Hartwell to safety while the fountain was still turned off.

“She has something to tell us. Don’t you want to hear it?” Edith Cubberling asked.

“If it’s something about the fountain, we already know it,” Falco informed her.

“Yes, and so does she. I could have told Roger Banning she’d find out there was a fountain on the estate. He said she was asking about it yesterday.”

“I suppose he was just fool enough to tell her!”

“He didn’t need to tell me where it was,” Judy spoke up bravely. “I remembered. I was here once before with my grandparents and heard it speak.”

“The fountain—spoke?”

Now at last she had them interested.

“Yes,” she replied, trying a desperate bit of strategy. “Surely you know it’s haunted!”

“Haunted? What rubbish is this?” demanded Mrs. Cubberling.

“But it really is.” Judy did not need to pretend the effective shiver that accompanied this statement. “We heard moans coming from it and found out that it speaks whenever anyone is trapped under it. I know, because I heard it speak in my brother’s voice.”

“Did you hear any other voices?” Falco wanted to know.

“I did hear moans,” Judy answered guardedly. “Or didn’t I tell you? Of course, you wouldn’t know anything about the poor, dying man we found imprisoned under the fountain.”

“You—found him?” Falco had stopped dead still to listen.

“She’s talking nonsense,” Mrs. Cubberling said in an offhand way. “Come on. Let’s get going!”

“Wait! I want to hear this. The girl may have something to tell us, at that,” Falco said.

“The man looked very miserable,” Judy went on significantly. “He was wearing ragged clothes, and he had a heavy black beard.”

“You—saw him?” they both gasped.

“Of course,” replied Judy. “He was right there on the cot. My brother and I both saw him. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”

Falco and Mrs. Cubberling exchanged glances.

“Did he talk at all?” Falco asked.

“He moaned. I told you that. We heard him moaning and thought the fountain was haunted. That’s how we happened to explore it.”

“You explored it all right. Now we’ll explore it ourselves and find out how you got in there!”

“But I can tell you. We got in through the door!”

They both stared at Judy as if she were a spirit. Falco was the first to recover himself. He turned on his companion. “Did you leave that door unlocked?”

“No,” Mrs. Cubberling snapped. “You must have.”

“Maybe he unlocked it himself.” Falco laughed unpleasantly and added, “I told you we’d been bothered by prowlers. Is it our fault what happens to them?”

“I think what happened to this man was your fault,” replied Judy. She was about to mention the beating and then thought better of it. After all, she was just stalling until help came. It would be better to mention something they didn’t already know. There was that broken water pipe, for instance. “Of course,” she added, “it wasn’t entirely your fault. Part of it was accidental. One of the pipes broke and poured water into the room—”

“Which room?” they both interrupted.

“The room where we found the prisoner,” Judy answered. “We broke the pipe by accident when we rammed in the door.”

“You rammed it in? You—you—” Falco was stuttering in his anger. “What about the other door?”

“Oh!” said Judy as if she had just remembered it. “That’s right. There was another door.”

“Did you go in that room, too?” He looked ready to kill her if she had. Judy couldn’t help wondering what secret that other door was hiding.

“We didn’t bother with it,” she replied truthfully. “There wasn’t time. The water was pouring in. I managed to escape, but my poor brother is still down there with that dead man.”

Falco gasped. “Dead man, did you say?”

It flashed across Judy’s mind that it might be safer for Falco to think Dick Hartwell was dead. He mustn’t know Dick had talked. She thought of his story, now in Horace’s pocket, and her brother’s words, “I can keep his head above water if it comes to that.”

“He’s dead now,” she replied in a hoarse whisper. Her voice was leaving her. She couldn’t keep talking much longer. What she had told them could easily be the truth. She coughed painfully and added, “My brother probably is dead by now, too, but I guess that doesn’t matter to you. The contents of that room down there is all that matters, isn’t it?”

“What do you know about the contents of that room?” snarled Mrs. Cubberling. She turned to Falco and said almost triumphantly, “See? I told you you’re in trouble!”

“Answer her!” Falco commanded Judy.

Judy tried to answer, but only a croak came out. Finally she managed to tell them she knew nothing. It was true. She had been making wild guesses. She had guessed, by the way they were acting, that the contents of the locked room meant more to them than human lives. Now there was nothing she could say to stop them from going back there to protect their treasure.

“Please, Horace, if you escape, go the other way!” Judy whispered.

“What’s she saying, Edith? I can’t hear her.”

“No wonder,” the woman answered. “She’s so hoarse now she can’t speak above a whisper.”

Falco gave an evil chuckle. Judy saw Mrs. Cubberling looking at him as if she might be seeing him for the first time.

“I don’t believe they’d ram in one door without having a try at the other,” he continued, “but she could be telling the truth.”

“Some people do. I’d nearly forgotten.” The woman’s voice sounded almost wistful. It changed abruptly as she added, “I suppose you’re going to ask me to get the truth out of her?”

“Not now! Keep it quiet!” he warned. “I think I hear someone outside. It could be the police.”

Judy hoped it was.

“If it is the police, it’s your own fault!” Mrs. Cubberling snarled at Falco. “I told you one of these days they’d catch up with you. Today may very well be the day. You’ve bungled this job from start to finish!”

“But you’re in it, too—”

“I’d have the satisfaction,” she interrupted, “of seeing you get yours, and I’d be as free in prison as I am in this gang working for you. I’m through, as of this minute!”

“What do you mean you’re through?”

“I mean I’m through—fed up—finished! I’ve done all the dangerous work for you and my husband long enough. Maybe I’d like someone who’d take care ofmefor a change. MaybeI’dlike to wear some of those precious rubies and diamonds—”

“Quiet!” commanded Falco. “Someone’s coming!”

A figure passed the door on a run, but Judy saw only his shadow. Mrs. Cubberling rushed over to one of the peepholes in the tower.

“Know him?” asked Falco.

“No, but I’ll bet this girl does. He’s in a big hurry, and he’s on his way to the fountain. We’d better follow him.”

“It won’t do you any good to yell,” the gang leader warned Judy as they started off. “Someone’s sure to get hurt if you do.”

Tragic News

Judy paid little attention to the ugly threat. She had no idea who the man was. The shadow that had passed the tower door had been misshapen and fleeting, but it gave her hope.

“It could be a policeman—or Peter.”

She thought of Cubby and immediately recoiled from the thought. But ithadlooked like the shadow of a stout man. Peter was not stout. Neither was Horace and, anyway, Horace could hardly be running past the tower toward the fountain. If he were running at all he would be running away from it to get help.

“It must be someone coming to help him,” Judy decided.

She would not let herself believe it was Cubby or any other member of Falco’s gang. They had been cruel to Dick Hartwell. Horace could expect no mercy from them. In her thoughts Judy could hear what they had said to each other all over again. Edith Cubberling’s threat to quit the gang meant nothing unless she could take the treasure with her. “Maybe I’d like to wear some of those precious rubies and diamonds,” she had said.

Could Lorraine’s ruby be in the collection? In spite of her cold and discomfort, Judy found herself still trying to solve her friend’s problem. It kept her from thinking about her own. But if the ruby had been stolen, why was Lorraine afraid to say so? Was it because of some ugly threat to her life or the life of someone she loved? Arthur, for instance. But that didn’t make sense, either. She’d called Arthur a cheat. His name had been forged. Judy mustn’t forget that. It might be a clue to the whole mystery.

“I’ll tell Peter. He’ll figure it out. Oh, why doesn’t he come? I need help. I can’t move without feeling chilly all over. If only someone would bring me my coat!”

Judy tried to think where she had left it, and suddenly it all came back to her. The coat she needed so much was back there under the fountain, covering Dick Hartwell. All at once she thought of the diamond she had found. She had tied it in the corner of her handkerchief and put it in her coat pocket. Was it still there? Judy didn’t care any more. She almost wished she had never found it in the first place.

“A frozen tear!” she thought, “and now I’m nearly frozen! Where is Blackberry?” The warmth of the cat’s soft fur would be some comfort even if he hadn’t delivered their message. But perhaps he had! The tower hadn’t been mentioned. Whoever came in answer to Horace’s SOS would hurry right to the fountain.

“It will be safe now. Falco didn’t turn it back on! I did one thing,” Judy told herself. “I kept them from turning that valve. They threatened me on purpose to make me afraid of them, but they’re the ones who have the most to fear. I’ll be all right in a minute, and then I’ll follow them and see who that man was.”

The minute passed. Another followed it and then another. More shadows passed by the door, but when Judy opened her mouth to call to them nothing came out, not even a hoarse croak.

“I’ll have to get outside where Peter can see me,” she decided. She was so used to having him come when she needed him that she couldn’t believe her helplessness now. There was no pain in her bruised foot, but she simply could not stand on it no matter how bravely she tried. Suddenly she was seized with a violent chill. It was all she could do to drag herself from the gloomy tower out into the sunshine.

The day was sunny but cold. It was the penetrating cold of early December. Judy’s wet clothing had started to freeze while she was still in the tower. Now it felt as if she were encased in ice like a mummy.

“This can’t be happening to me,” she thought.

Never, in her whole life, had she felt so alone and helpless. She felt it was her own fault, too, for not calling Peter and telling him where she was going. But wouldn’t Honey tell him? She knew, and so did her father. Didn’t anyone care?

Tears filled Judy’s eyes and ran down her cheeks. But they fell into no enchanted fountain. “It wasn’t enchanted. It was haunted. I wish I’d never seen it. I wish—”

As if in answer to her wish she heard the sound of a twig breaking. Someone was coming along the path from the fountain. Judy’s heart began hammering in anticipation. Even Falco would be better than nobody. But would he? To her dismay, it was the gang leader’s voice she heard.

“We can’t get near it,” he was snarling. “The police have it roped off. They’ll search every inch of it, and we’re helpless, thanks to you!”

“Why me?” asked Mrs. Cubberling. “Why blame everything on me? It’s that redheaded girl. She wasn’t as weak as we thought she was. She’s gone!”

Evidently they hadn’t seen Judy. Maybe it was just as well, but somebody had to see her! She knew now that her strength was not enough, that she would have to attract the attention of the police who had come to rescue Horace and Dick Hartwell. Had they been in time?

“They can’t let me just lie here and die,” thought Judy. She had never thought very much about dying. She had always felt so vibrantly alive. But now, suddenly, it seemed possible. And yet help must be very near. Falco had mentioned the police. He and Edith Cubberling were now hiding inside the tower. If they climbed the stairs and crawled into the big tank it would make an even better hiding place, now that it was empty. But now the voices suddenly sounded nearer.

“Look!” Falco exclaimed. “She didn’t get away. I told you she couldn’t. There she is lying on the ground. Just wait till I get my hands on her!”

He started for Judy, but Mrs. Cubberling screamed at him. “You fool! Don’t you touch her! Do want to get us all sent up for life? The place is surrounded! You have enough crimes to answer for already. If you have any sense you’ll give yourself up and send that man we followed back here. He says he’s a doctor.”

“Yeah? He also says someone found a cat with a note on its collar and telephoned him. I suppose you fell for that, too.”

“Why not?” she replied. “If it’s the same black cat I caught prowling around here last night, it came with that G-man who traced the phone call. He’s this girl’s husband. Didn’t you hear him asking about her?”

“Peter! He’s come!” Judy whispered.

“What’s that?” Falco questioned, leaning closer. “What do you know about that cat?”

“Where—is he?” croaked Judy.

“I don’t know, but I’d kill him if I could find him. It’s bad enough to be trapped by a girl, but acat!” He spat out the word and made a violent gesture.

“And a black cat at that. I’ve always heard they were bad luck,” put in Mrs. Cubberling, “especially this one. He belongs to Judy Bolton, of course. Yes, I’ve guessed her name. Roger Banning told us about her, remember? Her family moved into the house where old Vine Thompson used to operate. Roger said this girl and her brother helped Chief Kelly round up most of the gang, and Roger said they’d get you, too. It was when you held the gun on him and made him bring us his friend with the prison record. I’d like to see you talk yourself out of this mess when that G-man finds this girl.”

“Let him!” growled Falco. “We didn’t hurt her. She hurt herself diving into the fountain. It was turned on full force. I don’t see how she ever got through it. That water has power. For my money it was all the protection we needed.”

“If Dick Hartwell is dead—” Edith Cubberling began.

“He’s dead all right. Real dead,” Falco interrupted, “but I don’t have to answer for that.Youturned on the fountain, Edith. I’m not forgetting that.”

“Don’t think you’re going to blame everything on me!” she screamed. “And you’re not going to get me in any deeper! I’m going back there and get that doctor. But not until you clear out. I don’t trust you. ‘If anyone goes near that fountain, turn it on!’ you said, and so I turned it. But is that man back there real dead, as you say, or isn’t he? It makes a big difference. They were still working over him when we left.”

“That’s routine,” declared Falco. “The doctor was just pulling two of them out of the pool when we caught up with him. ‘Neither one of them will do much talking,’ he said. Both drowned, I guess.”

“Do you think the other one was her brother?”

“Horace—drowned? Oh, no!” gasped Judy. “It can’t be true!”

“What’s she saying?” asked Falco. “Maybe we’ve still got a chance if we listen.”

“Don’t be a fool! It was listening to all her made-up talk about a haunted fountain that spoiled our chances,” declared Edith Cubberling. “I’m going for her father. You hide in the empty tank. They’ll never find you there!”

“What if she tells them where I am?”

“She won’t. She’s unconscious. She won’t bother you.”

Moments elapsed in which Judy was dimly aware of retreating footsteps. The last thing she heard was Edith Cubberling’s triumphant chuckle. “Don’t worry, my dear,” she seemed to be saying, “Falco won’t bother you either.”

Afterwards

Many hours later Judy opened her eyes and looked up to see Peter standing beside her bed. His blue eyes were regarding her anxiously. His face came into focus.

“Peter!” she gasped.

“I’m here, Angel. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. How are you feeling?”

“Hot,” she said. “That’s funny! I was so cold before. Is it a fever?” She looked around the room and saw that she must be in a hospital. An oxygen tank was also standing beside her bed, but the funny little cage was no longer over her nose. “I guess I was pretty sick,” she concluded.

“You were pretty brave,” Peter said, his voice husky.

A nurse she knew came in quietly. Judy moved her foot experimentally and discovered that it was in a cast.

“Oh!” she said. “No wonder I couldn’t walk. I guess I broke it against the fountain.” Then, all at once, her nightmare experience rushed back to her and she added sorrowfully, “It was no use. I limped back to the tower as fast as I could and turned off all the valves I could find—but it was all for nothing. I still can’t believe it, Peter. Horace—drowned—”

“Who said so?” Peter interrupted quickly. “Why, Horace is in the room right next to this one. He’s in better shape than you are. They even let him have a typewriter. Hear it?”

Judy listened a moment. She had never heard a sweeter sound.

“That brother of mine!” she said with tears in her eyes. “I guess he’s polishing up that story he had in his pocket.”

“Wrong again, Angel!” Peter was smiling at her now and holding her hand. “That story is already spread all over the front page of the paper. You’ll read it as soon as your father thinks you’re strong enough. You have a lot of catching up to do.”

“I know. I still feel weak when I think of it. Falco said something about two dead men, and I guess I fainted or something. Peter, he’s hiding in the water tower—”

“Not any more,” Peter broke in gently. “He was fished out of the tank, half drowned himself. Edith Cubberling told us where he was, but not until after she’d turned on the pump and the tank started to fill up. He had a taste of his own medicine. She was following his orders, she says, when she turned on the fountain. If it hadn’t been for you and that blessed cat of yours, Angel—”

“Please,” Judy stopped him, laughing a little and feeling more like herself. “Angels don’t keep black cats, or go exploring under fountains.”

“Your kind of angel,” Peter told her, “goes wherever she’s needed. I ought to scold you for rushing headlong into danger. I’ve warned you again and again that the FBI deals with dangerous criminals and that I don’t want you involved—”

“Please, Peter, believe me. I didn’t know it was dangerous. I didn’t know you were investigating anything at the Brandt estate until I found Blackberry and heard Stanley say two government men had been there. Then it made sense. I thought you had brought him.”

“And I thought you had.”

Judy sighed and gave up. “I guess Blackberry himself is the only one who really knows why he went there. You did let him out of the attic, didn’t you? I hope he’ll forgive me for shutting him up there. I thought you’d find him.”

“I did.” Peter didn’t say when. “I went up there to investigate a noise I heard, and there was poor Blackberry all tangled up in your sewing things. I unwound him and let him out the front door, and away he went! The next thing I knew he was looking at me from the front page of the paper.”

“They photographed him? Oh, Peter! How wonderful. Whose idea was it?”

“Well, you might say it was your brother’s. He thought it would please you. He said black cats deserved a little favorable publicity. He even quoted what you once said about Blackberry being unlucky for criminals. It was certainly true of Falco. The whole gang is being arraigned in court tomorrow morning. They’re all willing to talk, even the Cubberlings. That woman has been talking a blue streak ever since we picked her up.”

“You know why, don’t you?”

“Well, no,” Peter replied in a puzzled voice. “I can’t say that I do.”

“She thought she had murdered two persons by turning on the fountain,” Judy explained. “She did it on his orders. She told Falco she’d be as free in prison as she was working for him.”

“This has taught her a lesson then.” Peter’s grip on her hand tightened as he added, “You taught me one, too. I know now you’ll never be a meek little housewife who will stay home and dust the furniture while I go out solving the world’s problems. You’ll be right there solving them with me.”

“It wasn’t the world’s problems I set out to solve,” Judy objected. “It was only Lorraine’s. She seemed so troubled. She doesn’t trust Arthur. It’s a terrible thing for a girl who’s still practically a bride to be haunted with fear and suspicion the way she is.”

“I know,” Peter replied. “Arthur had told me. We had quite a talk one night. When you went to the movies with Honey, I can tell you now, I spent that evening with Arthur, too. We traced a telephone call from Lorraine and confirmed his suspicions. She went back there to the Brandt estate and gave Falco more of her jewelry.”

“So that was what happened to her ruby? Why did she do it, Peter?”

“That,” he replied, “is something I had been hoping Lorraine would tell you herself.”

“She didn’t. Lois said she had a problem, but she wouldn’t tell me a thing about it. I didn’t notice that her ruby was gone until I found that diamond. Was it still in my coat pocket?” Judy asked.

“It was.” Peter looked at her a long moment and then added, “It was still tied in the corner of your handkerchief. I found it before I found you. But now you’ve talked enough. I’d better leave and let you get some rest.”

“I can listen, can’t I? Tell me more, Peter. Tell me what’s in the paper. Can’t I see Blackberry’s picture?”

Peter hesitated. Judy saw an anxious expression on his face. He went out, and after quite a few minutes he returned with her father. He also had a copy of theFarringdon Daily Herald.

“Just one peek!” Dr. Bolton said after he had checked Judy’s breathing and given her an injection. “I didn’t expect you to recover quite this fast,” he admitted. “You really had us worried for a while, Judy girl.”

“I know, Dad.” Judy wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t come. Peter spread the paper before her. She looked at the picture of her precious pet for a long time before she asked, “What’s that white thing on his paw?”

“It’s a cast,” Peter told her. “He wanted to imitate his mistress, so your father put a cast on him, too. Seriously, a car hit him. Don’t worry! Only his paw was hurt.”

“Poor Blackberry! I wonder if he walked out into the road on purpose so someone would see him,” mused Judy. “We didn’t think he’d be much help to us at first, Dad. But he did carry our message. Horace wrote it, and I tucked it under his collar. We were lucky he had the collar on. I was going to wait until Christmas to give it to him and have his name engraved on it, but it looked so cute. Dogs have collars, and I think collars make cats look important, too.”

“Blackberry doesn’t need to look important. Heisimportant,” Dr. Bolton said.

“I know,” his mistress agreed. “He could tell we were in danger. Cats hate water anyway, and when he saw us trapped by it he was right there waiting until we needed him. It is a shame, though. We tried so hard to save Dick Hartwell. He said he wanted to die—”

“Your father disappointed him then,” Peter broke in, smiling. “He’s alive but still on the critical list. It looks now as if he might pull through.”

Judy could hardly believe she had been in time to save Dick, too. “I don’t understand this at all,” she said a little later. “Why would Falco think they were drowned if they were really alive? Dad must have told him they were dead. Why?”

“Perhaps he’d better tell you.” Peter kissed Judy lightly on the forehead. “Did I tell you how brave you were, chatterbox? Did I tell you how much I love you?”

“You showed me,” Judy said. “You came and rescued me, didn’t you? I thought it was a dream, but after I fainted I seemed to feel myself in your arms. Peter, is Dad—”

“He is,” Dr. Bolton interrupted before Judy could finish asking the question.

“Then everything is all right,” Judy said, and closed her eyes.

Lorraine’s Confession

Everything was not all right, as Judy soon discovered. When she awoke Peter was not there, and neither was her father. She had a younger nurse—a student whom she did not know. “Are you feeling well enough to have visitors today?” the nurse was asking. “Mr. and Mrs. Farringdon-Pett are here to see you.”

“Arthur! Lorraine!” exclaimed Judy as they came in. “I’m happy—so happy you came together.”

She did not ask if their differences were all mended. Lorraine said simply, “We’ve been talking with Horace.”

“How is he?” asked Judy. “The sound of his typewriter has been like music—”

“Not to me,” Lorraine interrupted.

Arthur gave her one of his frosty looks and answered Judy’s question. “He looks about the same as usual. He was treated for shock and submersion and sent home.”

Judy laughed. “I am in a fog. I don’t even know what day it is.”

“Time passes quickly in a hospital. It seems ages since we had luncheon together. Did you know Arthur had asked Peter to arrange it?” Lorraine asked. “Arthur didn’t trust me, either, I guess. He’s always arranging things for me. But we don’t want to burden you with our troubles. We brought you some flowers.”

“Oh, thank you!” exclaimed Judy. She took the roses Arthur gave her and breathed in their fragrance. “I can breathe now,” she told him, “without that awful pain in my chest. Dad says I’ll be as good as new before long, and so will Horace. But how are you, Lorraine? You were so frightened the last time I saw you.”

“I’m still frightened. Oh, Judy! Judy!” cried Lorraine. “How can I ever explain things to Arthur?”

“What is there to explain?” he asked coldly. “Peter has given me all the facts.”

“I don’t mean facts!” Lorraine cried. “You see, Judy, he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t want to listen when I try to tell him. He says he’s heard enough about that terrible gangster. He could have killed you, Judy—”

“He didn’t, Lorraine. I’m very much alive.”

“He killed something else then. He killed Arthur’s love for me. That beautiful ring was a symbol of his love, and I gave it to that awful man. I thought I had to keep him quiet. I don’t expect either of you to believe it, but when Falco telephoned me and made all those threats, I thought he’d expose Arthur and the whole family would be disgraced if I didn’t give him the ruby. Then he said it wasn’t enough, and I went back and gave him more of my jewelry. He called himself Falco and said he was fighting crime.”

“Who was I?” asked Arthur. “The criminal?”

“Well, no—not exactly, but he did make me think you were cheating people, misrepresenting everything, building all those new houses in Roulsville and even the Farringdon post office, out of defective materials.”

“You believed all that—of me, Lorraine?”

She admitted it with a nod. Tears were streaming down her face. Judy tried to comfort her. But she said the wrong thing. She mentioned the ring, only to learn that the police had been unable to recover any of the jewelry Lorraine had foolishly given to Falco.

“That ruby has caused a lot of grief,” Arthur said bitterly. He seemed stunned by Lorraine’s confession. They kept looking at each other as if they were strangers instead of the devoted couple Judy had believed them to be. Finally Arthur said, “We’d better go now. We shouldn’t have upset you with our problems, Judy. May I apologize for both of us?”

Lorraine was still crying when they left. The nurse hurried in with Dr. Bolton. She said something to him about the visitors being bad for patients and he agreed. Judy did feel weak. She was glad when visiting hours were over and she could rest.

Lorraine was alone the next time she came to visit Judy. In the meantime Judy’s mother, Peter’s grandparents, his sister Honey, and many of Judy’s friends and neighbors had been in to see her. Horace had visited her while he was still in the hospital, but now he was out on the trail of more news.

“I miss hearing his typewriter,” Judy told her father, who was there when Lorraine came in.

“Is it all right?” she asked, peeping through the half-open door. “The nurse at the desk downstairs said I could come up for a little while.”

“Of course it’s all right. You two girls may have the room to yourselves,” Dr. Bolton told them. “I’m on my way out. I’ll see you at home, Judy girl.”

“Did he sign you out?” asked Lorraine when he was gone. “That’s wonderful, Judy! I guess you won’t be needing these.”

The room was filled with flowers. Judy added the bouquet Lorraine gave her to the collection. “I’ll take them all home. People have been so good to me.”

“I haven’t,” Lorraine said. “I didn’t mean to upset you the other day, but I’ve been so mixed up. You solved everything else. That man will go to prison—”

“Not Dick? They aren’t going to send him back. Peter talked with his parole officer. He understands how it was.”

“Arthur doesn’t,” Lorraine said with a deep sigh. “He thinks I should have suspected those signatures were forged. I could have written to the Brandts.”

“Peter did get in touch with them,” Judy told her. “They didn’t lease their estate. They left Stanley to take care of it, and he allowed the gang to move in. Falco must have bribed him or something. I think the Brandts hired Roger Banning, too. He was supposed to repair the fountain.”

“It wasn’t repaired when we were there,” Lorraine remembered.

“I know. Roger was forced to work for the gang, instead. They made him bring his friend along. Dick didn’t know what they were up to at first, but when he found out it was extortion he refused to have any part of it. He told Horace all about it.”

Judy had seen the papers and read her brother’s story, but there were still a few pieces of the puzzle that didn’t fit.

“The police didn’t find the jewels they were looking for,” she continued. “I told Peter they should have looked in the fountain. Lorraine, there is a locked room down under it. The loot from their robberies might be stored there. Peter knows about it now. He’ll get back your ring.”

“I hope he will. Lois said there wasn’t anything you couldn’t solve,” Lorraine remembered, “and I guess that goes for Peter, too. Everybody else knew I was doing wrong before I did. I don’t expect Arthur to forgive me, but if we had the ring back he might unbend a little and stop being so cold and polite all the time.”

“He’s that way because he’s hurt,” Judy explained. “Most men are like that. Girls cry, but men just hold it all in and hurt back, or else they get angry and shout. I think Peter would get angry.”

“I wish Arthur would get angry! I deserve it after all the trouble I’ve caused.”

“Lorraine,” Judy said, taking her hand, “did it ever occur to you that you felt exactly the way Falco intended you to feel? Peter says that’s the way confidence men work, and Falco was a confidence man as well as a jewel thief and an extortioner. Roger Banning, the Cubberlings, and Dick Hartwell were all victims of his vicious lies. He should be behind bars for a long, long time.”

“I guess he will be, but that doesn’t solve my problem. I don’t think there is a solution,” Lorraine declared. “Arthur knows I deceived him. I told him I went to the movies with you the night I met Falco. I even said I was calling from the movies when I was actually calling from the Brandt place. He and Peter had arranged to trace the call. They knew it wasn’t true. Now Arthur will never trust me.”

“Do you trust him? I mean completely?” asked Judy. “Before this happened, weren’t there a few little doubts in your mind? Weren’t you afraid to let him have friends for fear he’d like them better than you? Be honest with yourself, Lorraine, and be honest with him, and I think everything will work out in time.”

“I hope it will,” Lorraine replied, as she rose to leave.

“You might trust the rest of us a little bit, too, while you’re at it,” Judy added. “Just keep on believing the stolen jewels will be found and we’ll keep on trying to find them. Peter hasn’t given up yet, you know. And pretty soon I’ll be well enough to help him.”

“It isn’t just the ring,” Lorraine said, “but it would help if I had it. ’Bye, Judy, and thanks—for everything.”

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