“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.”
