The vault, somehow, had a strange attraction for her as it did for Blackberry. The cat was climbing around it, exploring the statue, and the roof, and Judy longed to join him. If the bushes weren’t so wet she knew she could scramble up there, too.
“We’ll come back, won’t we, Horace?” Judy asked.
“It depends on what the caretaker has to say. The sky’s cleared a little and I can see the top of his cottage. We did pass it,” he observed. “The fire didn’t touch it or the trees around it.”
“I hope it’s warm inside,” Judy said. “The air is getting colder by the minute.”
CHAPTER XI
At the Caretaker’s Cottage
Judy found the caretaker’s cottage cold in more ways than one. They had approached it eagerly. It did seem the logical place to inquire about the mysterious Mr. Paul Riker.
“We’ll question the caretaker,” Horace declared. “He’ll tell us plenty.”
But would he? At first the wizened little old man who came to the door of the cottage refused to admit them.
“I’ve had enough people here,” he barked. “Go away!”