"Just get onto that house; it looks like a
mission-style switch engine. And the one next to it, built to shed snow.
Funny! sure it's funny. But you ain't talking to me! It's alive! Those
fellows wanted something different from anybody else--so does everybody.
After they'd used up the regular styles, they had to make 'em up out of
the fresh air. But anyway, they weren't satisfied just to copy Si
Golosh's idea of a Noah's Ark chicken coop."
They stopped opposite very elaborate and impressive iron gates opening
across a graded street. These gates were supported by a pair of stone
towers crowned with tiles. A smaller pair of towers and gates guarded
the concrete sidewalk. As a matter of fact, all these barriers enclosed
nothing, for even in the remote possibility that the inquiring visitor
should find them shut, an insignificant detour would circumvent their
fenceless flanks.
"Maudsley Court," Bob read sculptured on one of the towers.
"That makes this particular subdivision mighty exclusive," grinned
Baker. "Now if you were a homeseeker wouldn't you love to bring your
dinner pail back to the cawstle every night?"
Bob peered down the single street.
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