Blackberry Leads the Way
The room in which Judy found herself seemed to be all windows. There
was no furniture in it except for a round rug on the polished floor and
a bench against one wall. In the other three walls were high windows
with deep cabinets built under the window sills. On top of them were
big glass tanks and little glass tanks filled with everything from tiny
tropical fish to goldfish the size of flounders. Horace nearly dived
into one of the fish tanks as he rushed to look out and see what was
happening. Nothing, apparently, was.
“They’re simply cruising around out there,” he observed. “Do you think
they’re looking for the fountain?”
“They won’t reach it in a police car,” Judy replied. “They—” She
stopped suddenly. The round rug on the floor was hand-hooked and looked
very familiar. So was the cat that sat motionless in the center of it,
fascinated by the moving fish.
“Horace!” she exclaimed. “That’s Grandma’s rug! She did deliver it
here, and that looks like—it is!” Gathering the cat in her arms with
another exclamation, she hugged him against her cheek and then, holding
him back to look at him, asked in amazement, “Blackberry! What in the
world are you doing here?”
“What he intended to do was obvious,” Horace observed with a grin.
“What would any cat do in a room full of fish? I didn’t recognize him
when he crossed our path out there and then darted through the door.”
“He led us here!” cried Judy. “He’s always leading me into adventure.”
“And trouble,” Horace added. “By the way, sis, are you sure he is
Blackberry?”
“Of course I’m sure,” replied Judy, tilting the cat’s head to show her
brother the proof. “No other black cat has the same tiny white hairs
that look as if someone had spilled milk on his nose. They’re on his
feet, too. When I first saw him I said they made him look like a
blackberry dipped in sugar, and Peter agreed that Blackberry was a
perfect name for him.”
“A ‘purrfect’ name?”
“Exactly,” Judy agreed, “with the accent on the _purr_. The white hairs
don’t show as much as they did when he was a kitten, but I’d know him
anyway by the crackle in his purr. Listen to him, Horace! He’s so glad
to see us.”
“I wonder,” Horace said, still grinning. “He seemed rather glad to see
the fish before we came in. My big news story may turn out to be
nothing but a fish story after all. At least I know what his hobby is.”
“Whose hobby?” asked Judy. “You don’t even know who owns the fish.
Stanley could be taking care of them for the Brandts. It does seem to
me I remember goldfish in the pool around the fountain.”
“When you fished for the diamond you showed me?”
“No, Horace, it was the other time, when I thought the fountain was
enchanted and made my wishes. I know I saw flashes of gold in the
water. I wonder if any of these fish are ever kept there.”
“Probably—in the summer. In the winter the pool seems to be reserved
for more valuable things. I wouldn’t mind fishing for diamonds. There
may be more—”
“Sh!” Judy stopped him. “Wasn’t that the doorbell?”
Horace looked out the window. The two policemen who had been cruising
around the grounds were no longer in the police car. It was parked in
the circular driveway. The bell rang again. Blackberry stiffened in
Judy’s arms and pricked up his ears. She could hear Stanley’s voice.
“Mrs. Cubberling is resting. She does not wish to be disturbed this
morning.”
“Is she Cubby’s wife or his mother?” Judy whispered.
“Who knows? Mr. Cubberling may be the neighbor I’m looking for,”
declared Horace. “Listen!”
“Two government men were here last night,” Stanley was saying. “Mrs.
Cubberling can’t tell you any more than she told them.”
Judy’s gray eyes widened in alarm when she heard this. The FBI! Had she
accidentally stumbled into a mystery Peter was investigating?
“I didn’t mean to!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Horace! One of those government
men could have been Peter. What’ll we do? I promised him I’d never
follow him on another one of his investigations.”
“You didn’t follow him on purpose,” Horace reassured her. “I’m not so
sure Blackberry didn’t, though. Cats aren’t bound by promises.”
“I wish girls weren’t. I do so want to help—”
“Listen!” Horace interrupted.
The voices outside were becoming louder. Judy heard Roger Banning’s
name and the name of Dick Hartwell. Cubby wasn’t mentioned. Neither was
the dark stranger whose name Judy did not know. Finally Stanley called
upstairs in an extremely agitated manner, “There are two gentlemen
here, madam. They’re officers of the law and they have a search
warrant—”
“That does it!” Horace whispered. “It’ll be news all right. They’re
going to search the house.”
“They’ll find us!” cried Judy. “Horace, they mustn’t! That door over
there seems to lead to the garden. Maybe we can slip out without being
seen.”
“An excellent idea! That’s using the brain cells. Now,” Horace
announced a few minutes later when they were safe beyond a thick yew
hedge that bordered the garden, “we’ll do a little searching for
ourselves. Think you and Blackberry can lead me to the fountain?”
“I think so.” Judy still had the cat in her arms. “Stop squirming,” she
told him. “I’ll let you down when we find the path.”
“Maybe he can help us find it,” Horace suggested.
“It wouldn’t be safe,” Judy objected. “How do we know that dark man
isn’t lurking around somewhere waiting to catnap him? Seriously, there
may be danger. If you come to a fence, don’t touch it. The wires are
charged with electricity.”
“Friendly lot, aren’t they?” asked Horace. “There’s your fence.”
They had come upon it sooner than they anticipated. The whole wooded
portion of the estate seemed to be fenced off with chain-link fences
and electrically charged wire.
“What do they keep in here?” was Horace’s next question. “I’m not eager
to meet any ferocious animals.”
“The only animals I saw were made of stone,” Judy told him. “Lions, but
they don’t bite. They only spurt water out of their mouths when the
fountain is on, and I imagine it isn’t today. It’s too cold. The pipes
would freeze—”
“And moan,” Horace said. “You know what weird sounds can come out of
hollow pipes when the wind is blowing. You probably only imagined the
words.”
“I don’t imagine words. You know that. Please don’t start that argument
all over again,” begged Judy. “It doesn’t get us anywhere, but the path
will. This fence crosses it, but I think I can find the place where we
got through it yesterday. After that we just followed the path. We can
find it all right with the tower to guide us. It’s somewhere in that
direction.”
Judy tried to point, but found the cat in her arms something of a
handicap. He was still struggling to free himself.
“You won’t hold him long,” Horace prophesied.
“But I have to,” Judy insisted. “I don’t want him to run away from us.
He may be a big help if we explore the fountain. If there really is a
cave underneath it and if we can squeeze inside, we’re bound to find
something if only more water pipes. If I can crawl in behind those
cupids—”
“_If_ the water is turned off,” Horace finished for her. “That makes
six _ifs_. I counted them.”
“There are apt to be seven or eight, if not more,” declared Judy. “But
Blackberry can explore places we can’t. The trouble is, he can’t tell
us what he finds—”
“Me-aurr!” interrupted the cat.
“In words, I mean,” Judy corrected herself. “You tell us in your own
way, don’t you, Blackberry? I wish you could tell us how you got here.
Did Peter bring you?”
“Peter wouldn’t bring a cat to help him investigate a crime,” Horace
began. “Maybe you didn’t shut Blackberry in the attic—”
“Blackberry!” cried Judy as the cat leaped from her arms.
It was a squirrel that had attracted him. He soon chased it up a tree
and out on an overhanging branch. The squirrel escaped, but Blackberry
was now on the other side of the fence. With one leap, he was on the
ground.
“A good idea!” approved Horace. “Blackberry is leading the way again.
That’s how we’ll get over. You’re next, Judy. I’ll hold you up.”
“It seems to me we’re doing it the hard way. Oh, my goodness!” she
exclaimed when she was in the tree. “I can see the house from here.
Those policemen are just coming out. Do you think they’ll recognize
your car?”
“Probably,” replied Horace. He was having a little more difficulty
climbing the tree since there was no one to boost him.
“Do you think they’ll search the grounds?”
Judy, who was wearing slacks, slid down the branch easily and dropped
to the ground, but it broke with Horace. He got up, rubbed a skinned
place on his elbow, and replied, “Probably,” as if nothing had
happened. His dignity seemed to be more hurt than any other part of
him. Judy just had to giggle. Blackberry, apparently not liking the
commotion caused by Horace’s fall, darted off into the bushes.
“He got away in spite of me,” declared Judy, “but he’ll be back. He
likes to help me explore. I would have taken him with us yesterday, but
Lorraine doesn’t like cats. She says they’re creepy.”
“She said quite a few unpleasant things, didn’t she?” asked Horace.
“It was only because she was upset,” Judy excused her. She was
beginning to wonder if she should have told her brother anything about
Lorraine’s problem. There seemed to be problems enough without that.
The next one they encountered was a thick growth of thorny bushes. They
were nearer the tower now. The path couldn’t be far away.
“If only they hadn’t planted so many kinds of holly, and all with
prickly leaves,” Judy complained. “Maybe they think they need more than
electric fences to keep people away.”
“Away from what?” asked Horace stopping to extract a thorn from his
finger.
“The fountain, I guess. There is some secret about it. There must be,”
Judy decided. “There! I can see it now, through the bushes, and it is
turned off. Hurry, Horace! I can hardly wait to explore it.”
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