“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 of me for a change. Maybe I’d like 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.”