“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.”