Judy and Horace looked at each other in bewilderment. They both knew they couldn’t tell the prisoner who they were without further antagonizing him. A newspaper reporter and the wife of an FBI agent were hardly the right people to trust with whatever secret the fountain was hiding. Suddenly an idea came to Judy.

“The main thing right now is that you need help,” she called out. “If you’re hurt we can have Dr. Bolton here in no time. How far is it to the nearest telephone?”

“Too far,” the man replied. “I know you now. You’re Dr. Bolton’s daughter. Is that your husband with you?”

“N-no,” Judy stammered, really confused now. “It’s my brother.”

“The newspaper reporter? Well, why don’t you hurry back to your paper and tell them you’ve rounded up the last of Vine Thompson’s boys single-handed? Or didn’t you know the Brandts had leased their estate to a gang of jewel thieves? Go ahead, tell them—” Suddenly the excitement died out of the man’s voice and he finished in despair. “But it’s too late to tell them anything. There’s no help for it now. They’ll have to send me back to prison.”

“What is the story?” asked Horace. “Maybe we can help.”

“No, it’s no use.”

Judy pulled her brother aside where the man wouldn’t hear her whisper, “Horace, I know who he is now. He said Roger Banning was a false friend, and he’s been in prison, so he must be Dick Hartwell. Don’t you see? If he knows us, then we must know him. That’s who he is. I’m sure of it. No wonder he’s afraid they’ll send him back to prison. But he forged some checks. He wasn’t a jewel thief. And what did he mean about the last of Vine Thompson’s boys?”

“They were jewel thieves. Remember the stolen jewels I found in the hollow tree that used to lean over our house? But of course you remember! You were the one who took them to the police station and met Chief Kelly and solved most of the mystery—”

“No, Horace,” Judy objected. “You solved most of it. You knew what was haunting our attic long before I did. I thought maybe it really was Vine Thompson’s ghost.”

“If her ghost is anywhere, it’s here with the gang her sons started. I didn’t think Dick Hartwell was in it, though, and it’s news to hear that Roger Banning is a jewel thief. Do you suppose that explains the diamond in the fountain?”

“Sh!” Judy cautioned him. In his excitement, Horace had spoken louder than he intended. It was all very confusing. Judy had supposed the Thompson gang was past history. The sons of the notorious fence, Vine Thompson, had all received long sentences in prison. But a gang like that, as Peter had once pointed out to her, spread its evil influence far and wide. Always there was a criminal on the fringe of it who didn’t get caught. That criminal usually followed the pattern of his hero, the original gang leader. And so crime spread, like a bad weed in a garden. That was the way Peter explained it. How Judy wished he were here to explain things now!

“Horace,” she said suddenly, “you can’t breathe a word of this story until we’ve talked it over with Peter and his office has released it. If that man is Dick Hartwell, he was in a Federal penitentiary. He forged his father’s signature to a government bond.”

“But he was out on parole,” Horace began.

“He’s right, though,” Judy interrupted. “They’ll put him right back in if they find him. A man is on parole only as long as he keeps out of trouble, and this man is in trouble—way in. I still feel sorry for him, but I know now what we have to do.”

“Name it and we’ll do it. Of course you’ll notify Peter—”

A rushing sound in the pipes overhead interrupted Horace in the middle of what he was saying. His face went suddenly white.

“He heard us!” cried Judy. “I think that man in there heard what we were saying and turned on the fountain!”

“Come on,” Horace exclaimed. “We have to get out of here fast, before the fountain fills, and report what he told us. Come on, Judy! The exit must be in this direction. There’s that drain cover you tripped on before.”

Judy beamed her flashlight toward it and saw that Horace had replaced it.

“Wait!” she called to him. “That drain is there to keep the tunnel from being flooded. If any water seeps in from the fountain it probably runs off down that drain. You shouldn’t have put back the cover!”

“I was afraid someone would fall down the hole. Either way, it’s a trap!”

Horace’s voice sounded hollow, echoing back through the tunnel. Already he was way ahead of her. Judy soon caught up with him, but they were too late. The rushing sound in the pipes overhead continued as the water flowed through them to spray out in all directions from the fountain. Judy couldn’t see out. But, remembering, she knew what it must be like out there where she had felt the enchantment.

“Lift me up, Horace,” she begged. “You can do it. I want to see.”

He lifted her until she could step from his shoulder into the hiding place behind the cupids. The spaces between them where they had entered were now covered with falling water, cutting off escape.

“How bad is it?” asked Horace from below.

“Real bad,” she replied. “I can’t see a thing through the water. I’m standing right in back of it. There’s no way out.”

“There must be! We came in that way.”

“Not when the fountain was on, Horace. It’s like being under Niagara Falls. The pressure is terrific.” Niagara Falls made Judy think of her honeymoon there with Peter, and she added, “I wish Peter were here to help us. He would know what to do.”

“He can help us better where he is,” Horace told her when she had dropped back into the tunnel and stood on the wet floor beside him.

“But where is he?” wailed Judy. “We shouldn’t have come here without letting him know. Now we’re trapped, and no one knows it except Blackberry. If he were a dog he might go for help, but cats are too independent. Of course, if Peter sees him—but will he come back today?”

“He might,” Horace replied cheerfully. “Dad knows where we are. You promised to call, and if I know Dad he’ll suspect something’s wrong when you don’t keep your promise. If he tells Peter and if they find Blackberry—”

“More ifs!” Judy interrupted. “Don’t look so cheerful about it just because it’s news. If we drowned in here that would be news, too, but we wouldn’t be around to read the paper. We’ll just have to find out how to shut off the water. That man must be able to control the fountain from in there. There’s nothing out here that we can turn.”

“There may be,” Horace said. “We haven’t examined the pipes.”

“There isn’t time!” Judy was panicky now. “You’ll have to remove that drain cover before the tunnel is flooded. You should have left it open—”

“I know. I made a mistake,” Horace admitted. “Now it’s stuck, and I can’t budge it. There’s nothing to hold on to. Help me, Judy! We’ve got to get it off!”