It was any one's.

There followed debate on a possible right to that which grew abundantly beyond the fence.

By some strange but not unprecedented twisting of the mature mind of authority, might it not belong to those inside, or to those who had put them there?
Further, would Mrs.Penniman care to make pies of blackberries--even the largest and ripest yet found--that had grown in a graveyard?
"They taste just the same," announced the Wilbur twin, having, after a cautious survey, furtively reached through two boards of the fence to retrieve a choice cluster.
"I guess nobody would want 'em that owns 'em," conceded Wilbur.
"Well, you climb over first." "We better both go together at the same time." "No, one of us better try it first and see; then, if it's all right, I'll climb over, too." "Aw, I know a better patch up over West Hill in the Whipple woods." "What you afraid of?
Nobody would care about a few old blackberries." "I ain't afraid." "You act like it, I must say.

If you wasn't afraid you'd climb that fence pretty quick, wouldn't you?
Looky, the big ones!" The Wilbur twin reflected on this.

It sounded plausible.