Judy was home at last. The cast would soon be removed from her foot and she would be ready for the next exciting chapter in a life that had, so far, been a series of problems and solutions.

Blackberry was curled contentedly in Judy’s lap unconscious of the fact that the collar he wore was now decorated with a life-saving medal.

“A cat is good publicity,” the editor, Mr. Lee, had told Horace. “The public gets tired of dog stories. But a cat—well, that’s different. When a cat saves a life that’s really news.”

The life he was talking about was the life of Dick Hartwell. “In another five minutes,” Dr. Bolton was telling the group in the living room, “it would have been too late to save him. I didn’t know you were in the tower, Judy girl, when I hurried past—”

“I’m glad you hurried, Dad,” she told him. “If you’d stopped to help me, Dick would have died, wouldn’t he? I can see why you told Falco he was dead, but why did you say Horace was dead, too? I’ve been meaning to ask you. It was the end of the world for me when I heard it. I tease him and torment him, and we’ve often quarreled with each other. Anything you can do I can do better, that sort of stuff. But I really love my brother.”

“I know you do, Judy girl. I really love that son of mine, too,” Dr. Bolton said. “That’s why I hurried him out of there so fast. ‘Neither of them will do much talking,’ I told that gangster and the woman who was with him. Then I covered the boys’ faces and we rushed them to the ambulance, where a pulmotor was waiting to revive them. Peter was there by then. The police, Dick’s parole officer, and several more Federal agents came soon afterwards. But I was alone at first. It was a ticklish situation.”

“I see. I guess you did what you had to do, the same as I did.”

“That’s right. Maybe you learned your strategy from your old dad. You know how strict I am about the truth. Don’t misunderstand me,” the doctor warned. “I wouldn’t stretch it even a little way unless there was a life at stake. It wasn’t far from the truth, anyway. Horace was unconscious—”

“He doesn’t look it now!”

Judy was through being serious. Her brother was at the table devouring a huge piece of cake that Honey had just cut for him. Peter had a slice nearly as large. The house was full of people as it had been ever since Judy came home. Lois, Lorraine, and Arthur were there. Other friends and neighbors were in and out, glad of a chance to help Judy, although she insisted she was well able to help herself. She could walk with the cast on her foot, but not very gracefully. Everybody had autographed it, even Blackberry with his paw print. The next guest to arrive was Helen Brandt, home early from what had started out to be a winter vacation.

“We came right home as soon as we got Peter’s message,” she explained. “Imagine Stanley letting those criminals move in, and then saying, ‘Every man has his price.’ I don’t believe it, do you, Judy?”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “Peter, come here and meet Helen Brandt. She’ll be interested in hearing about that cache of jewels you found down under the fountain.”

“So that’s the secret you two have been keeping!” several of Judy’s friends exclaimed.

“I can’t believe it!” cried Helen. “That used to be a storeroom. There was an outside door then—”

“They walled it in and stuffed the loot from dozens of robberies between the wall and the door. It was concealed from the inside, too, but not quite well enough. The only entrance they left clear was the one under the cupids. If they hadn’t dropped one of their stolen diamonds by accident on the way in, we might have given up the search. Judy found it,” Peter finished proudly.

“I pretended it was a frozen tear. Can you guess why, Helen?” asked Judy. “Were you there, the day, years ago, when I came with my grandparents?”

“I remember,” Helen Brandt replied. She was a little vague about it, but soon her explanation of the unsolved mystery began to make sense. “Your grandmother said she’d found you crying over the picture of our fountain,” she told Judy. “The picture appeared once in a magazine with an article about gardens. I guess your grandmother had the magazine. You know it’s an old fountain, don’t you? It’s been there ever since my mother can remember.”

“Tell us about the rooms under it. I’d like to see them,” declared Honey.

“They were built underground so we could have heat down there in the winter to keep the pipes from freezing. The caretaker we had before Stanley used to live down there and take care of the pipes. He suggested making the other room into a playroom for me,” Helen continued, “but he died before it was finished. I used to pretend things about his ghost.”

Judy shivered. “I didn’t need to pretend things. The moans we heard were real.”

“It was Dick Hartwell,” Lois whispered. “They had him locked up in one of those rooms.”

“What was in the other one?”

This question was ignored as Helen Brandt went on with her story. “Stanley wouldn’t fix anything. The fountain used to be pretty. We wanted it that way again, so we hired Mr. Banning. He’s a plumber, you know. He sent his son, Roger, to do the work—”

“That fits,” agreed Peter.

“But what about that other voice Judy heard?” asked Horace. “We still haven’t figured out that one.”

“I think I have,” Judy told him. “Helen, if you heard what my grandparents were saying, and then found me crying again, you must have pretended you were the fountain.”

“You used to be full of tricks, Helen,” Lois put in. “When we played dolls together you were always talking for them and pretending they came to life at midnight—things like that.”

Honey laughed. “That must be how it happened, Judy. Now I won’t be afraid to go down there. That is, if I’m ever invited.”

“You pretended a lot of other things, didn’t you, Helen?” asked Judy. “I mean things like wishes that came true if you shed a tear in the fountain.”

“I read about it in a fairy story once,” Helen Brandt confessed. “There were two sisters. The good one shed tears that turned into diamonds, but the tears the other one shed changed into toads. I tried it on you just for fun. Then I peeked out from behind those cupids and watched you wish. But what were you crying about? Your tears looked real.”

“They were,” declared Judy. “Growing up isn’t easy. There are lots of things to cry about when you’re fourteen.”

“I know,” Helen said. “When you’ve outgrown your dolls and you’re not old enough for boys—”

“Didn’t you have any pets, Judy?”

Judy wasn’t sure who asked the question. She held up Blackberry for inspection. “I wasn’t very old when I got him,” she said. “He was such an adorable kitten. But now he’s old and wise and decorated with medals. If I had another wish to make in the fountain, do you know what it would be?”

Everybody gathered around Judy to hear.

“I’d wish that Blackberry would never grow old and die,” she told them. “I’d wish he could live forever and ever. If your fountain can make a wish like that come true, I’ll stop thinking it’s haunted.”

“But Judy,” Lois objected. “Nothing could make an impossible wish like that come true.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Lorraine said with a meaning glance in Arthur’s direction. “Sometimes Judy manages to do the impossible. She found the diamond that started all this and led to the discovery of that walled-in hiding place—and my ruby. It means more now than it ever did. Arthur will tell you. We talked it all over, and now he really understands.”

Judy could see it was true. Arthur smiled at Lorraine in the old, devoted way. And Horace and Honey were more devoted than ever in spite of her art work.

“The fountain inspired me,” Honey declared. “I designed a new fabric. It has little fountains all over it. The air brush makes beautiful spray. Judy, you’ll love to have a dress made out of it.”

“Could I have one, too?” asked Helen Brandt. “You wouldn’t mind if I had a dress like yours, would you, Judy? I mean if I told you how your wish about Blackberry could come true.”

“You’re joking,” Judy said. “No cat can live forever.”

“Cats have kittens,” Helen pointed out. “Blackberry didn’t come to our house because of the fish we have there. He was paying a social call. I have a cat, too. Her name is Tabby and if she has kittens—”

“Promise me,” Judy interrupted, “that if one of them looks like Blackberry you will give it to me. I’d like my little namesake, Judy Meredith, to have a black kitten and name it Blackberry, too. Did I tell you we’ve been invited to spend Christmas with Dale and Irene in New York? They’re little Judy’s parents,” Judy explained to Helen Brandt. All the rest of them knew Irene’s Cinderella story. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Everybody thought so except Judy’s young neighbor, Holly Potter.

“We traded birthdays. Remember? You were going to have yours on Christmas so I could have mine last September when we opened the forbidden chest.”

“That’s right,” the others agreed. “You two girls did trade birthdays.”

Helen Brandt had an idea.

“Why not have the celebration just before Judy and Peter leave for New York? We can have it in that room under the fountain. We’ll open it up and make a playroom and set up a Christmas tree.”

“Not there,” Judy objected. “I’d love to have a party at your house, Helen, and make another wish in the fountain. I’ll think of how I felt when I thought Horace was drowned, and the tears will come easy. But please, not in the tunnel. There are real ghosts down there. The fountain will always be haunted—”

“Objection!” shouted Peter. “Enchanted is the word you want. I ask but one favor. Promise me, Angel, that when you make your next wish I’ll be there to grant it.”

“You will have to be.” Judy’s gray eyes were tender. “Because my wish will be that you’ll always be there.”