A younger man with a camera appeared seconds later. He had dark brown hair and was wearing sunglasses. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up above his elbows, and there was a notebook poking up from the back pocket of his pants.
From where they were standing, the Aldens couldn’t help overhearing the conversation on the porch.
“I asked Jake North to take some pictures for the Elmford newspaper, Miss Corkum,” Carl Mason was saying. “But there isn’t a single visitor in sight. I’m afraid we’ve wasted Mr. North’s time today.”
“But Mr. Mason, it’s—”
The museum curator broke in, “It’s not exactly a beehive of activity around here today, is it? I certainly don’t want pictures of an empty farmhouse to appear in the paper.” Mr. Mason sounded upset. “But what else can be expected without a sign at the entrance? How will anyone know where the farmhouse is located, Miss Corkum?”
“I have no idea what happened to that sign, Mr. Mason,” replied the young woman. “It was hanging out front when I arrived this morning.”
“You’re paid to keep an eye on things around here, Miss Corkum!” Mr. Mason shot back.
Jessie whispered to the others, “That must be the sign Aunt Jane was talking about.”
“What could have happened to it?” Violet wondered out loud.
“Maybe it blew away in the wind,” Benny said.
“Maybe, Benny,” said Jessie. “But I don’t think so.”
“No, there’s hardly any wind at all,” Henry pointed out.
Jessie felt uncomfortable listening to the conversation. “Maybe we should walk back to meet Aunt Jane,” she suggested in a low voice. “It isn’t polite to eavesdrop.”
“Good idea,” said Violet.
As they headed back across the grass, Henry stopped to look around. “Where’s Benny?”
Jessie looked around, too. “He was here a minute ago.”
Violet thought for a moment. “Maybe he went to help Aunt Jane.”
But Aunt Jane hadn’t seen Benny. “He probably just wanted to stretch his legs,” she told them.
“Maybe,” said Jessie, but she didn’t sound so sure.
They decided to split up and look for Benny. Jessie went through the orchard with Aunt Jane, while Henry and Violet checked down by the creek.
“No luck,” Henry told them a little later, when he and Violet walked back.
Aunt Jane frowned. “This really is getting rather odd.”
“Benny can take care of himself, Aunt Jane,” said Henry. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.” But secretly Henry was worried. It wasn’t like Benny to wander away without telling them.
Jessie looked worried, too. “Benny couldn’t have disappeared into thin air.”
All of a sudden Violet cried out, “Look!”
When they turned, they spotted Benny coming out from behind the old pole barn. And he was dragging something behind him.
Jessie was the first to give him a hug. “We were looking everywhere for you.”
“How did you get burrs all over your socks?” Violet asked him.
Benny glanced down. “There’s lots of weeds behind the barn.”
“What in the world were you doing back there?” asked Aunt Jane.
“Looking for the missing sign,” replied Benny. “And guess what?” He held up the big sign he’d been dragging behind him. In bright yellow lettering were the words THE HISTORIC WAGNER FARMHOUSE.
“Oh, Benny!” Violet clasped her hands. “You found it!”
Mr. Mason looked surprised when Henry and Benny came up the porch steps a few minutes later carrying the sign between them. “Well, if it isn’t the Aldens!” he cried. “And Mrs. Bean!”
Gwendolyn Corkum’s face broke into a smile. “Oh, you solved the mystery of the missing sign!”
“I’m a very good detective,” Benny declared proudly.
The young woman smiled at the four children. “Indeed you are! It just so happens I’ve heard all about you from your aunt Jane. I’m Gwendolyn Corkum,” she added, holding out her hand. “But almost everybody around here calls me Gwen.”
The young man with the camera gave them a friendly smile. He took off his sunglasses and reached out to shake hands, too. “Jake North,” he said. “I’m a reporter.”
“Now, where did you find that sign, Benny?” Mr. Mason wanted to know.
“Hanging on a nail behind the barn,” said Benny.
Gwen looked puzzled. “The barn? How did it get there?”
“Must be somebody’s idea of a practical joke,” guessed Jake. “Trying to be a copycat, no doubt.”
“Why do you say that?” Gwen asked.
“Wasn’t Horace Wagner a practical joker?” asked Jake. “Maybe somebody’s trying to copy him by playing a joke.”
Just then a silver-haired lady dressed in Victorian costume stepped out of the house. “Did I hear someone mention practical jokes?” she asked. “You must be talking about Horace Wagner!”
Gwen introduced Elizabeth Pennink, Horace’s great-great-granddaughter. “Miss Pennink is one of the volunteers here at the farmhouse,” Gwen explained.
“My great-great-grandfather loved practical jokes,” Elizabeth Pennink told them. “Maybe it’s because he was born on April Fool’s Day—born with a twinkle in his eye, I might add! He even got married on April Fool’s Day. Of course, Horace’s jokes were never meant to hurt anyone,” she quickly added. “They were just for fun.”
Carl Mason cleared his throat. “Don’t let us keep you, Miss Pennink,” he said abruptly. “I’m sure you have plenty to keep you busy inside.”
“Oh,” the older woman said in a quiet voice. “I . . . I didn’t mean to go on and on.” And with that, she slipped back inside the house.
Violet couldn’t understand why Mr. Mason had spoken so sharply. It was clear that Miss Pennink had been hurt by his rudeness.
The museum curator shut the door behind Miss Pennink. “We prefer not to mention Horace Wagner and his practical jokes,” he said. “This is a serious project! The important thing is for people to learn what life was like long ago.” Carl Mason smoothed his mustache. “Jokes simply do not belong in a museum.” Turning to Jake North, he added, “I trust the newspaper will not mention such silly matters.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Jake.
Mr. Mason nodded. “I’ll put the sign back where it belongs on my way out,” he said. “And please remember, Miss Corkum,” he added, “I’ll be out of town for a few days. I hope you’ll take your job more seriously while I’m gone.”
As Carl Mason went on his way, Jake remarked, “It really is strange, isn’t it?”
Henry looked over at him. “What is?”
“That somebody played a practical joke with that sign,” answered Jake. “Either there’s a copycat joker around here, or . . .”
“Or what?” asked Benny.
Jake said, “Well, let’s just say it’s enough to make a person believe in ghosts!”
“Ghosts?” cried Benny.
Violet shivered. Was the farm haunted by the ghost of Horace Wagner?
CHAPTER 3
An Offer to Help
Gwen laughed. “As far as I know,” she said, “the farmhouse is not haunted.”
Jake North sighed. “I guess that would be hoping for too much.”
Jessie caught Henry’s eye. Why would anyone want a house to be haunted?
“What I mean is, it would make a good newspaper story,” Jake said quickly. “Not much happens in a small town like Elmford. The most exciting story I’ve had to report so far was that they ran out of hot dogs at the local baseball game!”
Benny’s big eyes grew even rounder. “They ran out of hot dogs at a baseball game?!”
“You see, Jake?” said Aunt Jane, as everyone laughed. “What you don’t find interesting, somebody else might.”
Violet spoke up shyly. “Grandfather says it’s people who make a town interesting.”
The young man smiled a little. “I only wish my teachers at college were that easy to please.”
Henry looked surprised. “Oh, do you go to college?”
“I’m in the journalism program,” Jake told Henry. “I start my second year this fall. My uncle’s a writer and a poet. He pulled a few strings and got me a job working for the Elmford newspaper for the summer. It’s a chance for me to get some practical experience.”
“I am sorry we wasted your time today,” Gwen said when Jake checked his watch. “But we’re having an old-fashioned laundry demonstration tomorrow afternoon. If you could come back, I’m sure you’ll be able to take some interesting pictures.”
“I’ll make a note of it,” Jake told her. Then he waved good-bye.
As they watched Jake North drive away in his red sports car, Aunt Jane said, “Would you like to share a picnic lunch with us, Gwen? We’d certainly enjoy your company.”
The young woman looked pleased. “Actually, I packed a sandwich today,” she said. “But I’d love to join you. I’ll just bring my lunch along.”
When they were sitting around a picnic table by the creek, Gwen thanked Benny again for finding the missing sign. “You really came to the rescue!” she said.
Benny beamed. “No problem,” he said with a grin.
“I love this job,” Gwen went on, “but opening week hasn’t been easy.”
“Has anything else gone wrong?” Violet asked as she helped herself to one of Aunt Jane’s delicious egg salad sandwiches.
Gwen took a bite of her sandwich while she thought about the question. “The truth is,” she said at last, “there aren’t enough tour guides this week. Too many people went away on family vacations. I’m just grateful for my sister Sharon. And, of course, for Miss Pennink.”
Jessie poured some lemonade into Benny’s cracked pink cup. He often traveled with the pink cup he’d found while they were living in the boxcar. “What do the volunteers do?” she asked.
Gwen explained, “The museum doesn’t have enough money to hire guides, so we rely on volunteers to give the tours. They dress up in Victorian costumes and take visitors through the house, telling them about life in the olden days. It’s part of my job,” she told them, “to train the volunteers and to organize special events at the farmhouse. And, of course, to let people know the museum is open. It certainly doesn’t help,” she added, “when the farmhouse sign disappears.”
Benny looked a bit troubled as he took a bite of his pickle. “There’s no such thing as ghosts, right?” he asked, thinking of what Jake had said.
“Don’t worry, Benny.” Henry put an arm around his brother. “A ghost didn’t move that sign.”
“But somebody did play a practical joke,” Benny insisted. “If it wasn’t the ghost of Horace Wagner, then who was it?”
Gwen took a sip of lemonade, then she shook her head. “I must admit, it’s a mystery.”
After lunch, Jessie was anxious to talk to her brothers and sister. “I have an idea,” she told them as they tossed paper napkins and watermelon rinds into a nearby trash can. “Can anybody guess what it is?”
Henry said, “You’re thinking we could help out at the farmhouse, right?”
“Exactly!” cried Jessie.
Violet seemed surprised. “You mean, as volunteer tour guides?”
“Yes,” said Jessie. “It would be fun!”
“It sure would!” agreed Benny.
Henry nodded. “I think that’s a terrific idea.”
“And we could solve a mystery,” added Benny. “The copycat mystery!”
Later, when Gwen heard their offer, her green eyes lit up. “Do you mean it?” she asked as they made their way back to the farmhouse. “I must warn you, it can be hard work.”
“Oh, you don’t know these children! There’s nothing they like better than hard work,” said Aunt Jane. “I had a hunch they’d want to help.”
“When do we start?” asked Benny, who always got straight to the point.
Gwen laughed. “How does tomorrow sound? I can take you on a tour of the farmhouse right now, if you like.”
“We’d like that very much!” replied Jessie, speaking for them all.
As they followed a path through a field of clover, Jessie noticed a small white cottage near the orchard. “That must be where Draper Mills lives,” she said to Henry.
Henry nodded. “There he is now, looking out the front window. I think he sees us.” When Henry put a hand up to wave, the custodian yanked the curtains closed.
“He isn’t very friendly,” said Jessie.
“That’s for sure,” agreed Henry. “I guess we’d better keep out of his way while we’re working here.”
“Oh, dear!” said Gwen as they came out of the orchard. “It looks like the farmhouse is a lot busier now.”
Everyone followed her gaze to where a number of cars were parked.
“Why don’t we leave your tour until the morning,” she suggested. “That way I can spend more time with you and we can get started on your training.”
“We’ll be here bright and early,” promised Jessie.
As they rounded the farmhouse, Gwen waved to a girl of about fifteen who was standing on the porch talking to an older couple. The young girl looked very much like Gwen. She had the same fair hair and slim build, only she was much taller.
“Oh, it looks like Sharon’s back from the dentist,” said Gwen. And she waved for her to come over.
When Gwen’s sister raised her long skirts above her ankles to come down the porch steps, Violet noticed her socks. They were covered in burrs—just like Benny’s.
Sharon gave the Aldens a friendly smile. “Are you here for a tour?” she asked.
“Actually, I’ll be taking them on a special tour in the morning,” Gwen told her. “You see, the Aldens have offered to help us out this week. Isn’t that wonderful? As a matter of fact,” she added, “they’ve already been a help. Benny found the farmhouse sign! The Aldens happen to be first-class detectives.”
Sharon’s smiled faded. Suddenly she didn’t look so friendly. “We don’t have time to train new volunteers,” she said rather sharply. “Aren’t we busy enough as it is?”
The children stared at her in disbelief. Why was Sharon getting upset?
Even Gwen seemed surprised by her sister. “We need all the help we can get. I thought you’d be pleased with such a kind offer.”
But Sharon did not look pleased at all.
“They won’t even know what to do!” she shot back. “It’s just going to be a waste of everybody’s time. I mean, what’s the point in—”
“Sharon!” Gwen broke in. “What’s gotten into you?”
“We’ll do a good job,” Benny promised. “Just wait and see!”
“And what happened to that reporter?” Sharon asked her sister, changing the subject. “I thought he was going to take pictures of the farmhouse.”
“There weren’t any visitors,” explained Gwen. “Mr. Mason didn’t want pictures of an empty farmhouse in the paper.”
Sharon frowned, then stormed away.
Gwen apologized for her sister’s behavior. “Sharon can be a bit difficult sometimes. But she really has a good heart.”
When the Aldens were walking back to the car with Aunt Jane, Henry let out a low whistle. “Gwen’s sister sure doesn’t want us helping out,” he said.
A frown crossed Benny’s round face. “It’s kind of funny she got so upset.”
Jessie didn’t think it was funny at all. “Can you believe how rude she was?”
“We will do a good job,” declared Benny. “Won’t we?”
“Sure we will,” said Henry. Then he added honestly, “At least, we’ll do our best. Nobody can ask more than that.”
Violet sighed. She was having second thoughts about working at the farmhouse. What if they had to talk in front of large tour groups?
As if reading her thoughts, Jessie said, “Don’t worry, Violet.” She knew that her sister was of
ten shy and nervous around strangers. “I’ll ask Gwen if we can work together until you feel comfortable.”
Violet gave her sister a grateful smile. Jessie always knew just what to say to make her feel better. “Are you sure Gwen won’t mind?”
“Gwen will want you to feel comfortable,” Aunt Jane assured them.
Benny grinned. “I guess we really will find out what it was like in the olden days.”
“I think it will be a great experience,” said Aunt Jane. “And the farmhouse can really use your help,”
On the drive to their aunt’s, Benny said, “I wonder why Sharon was acting so weird.”
Aunt Jane thought about this for a moment. Then she said, “I’m afraid Gwen and her sister don’t always see eye to eye.”
Benny made a face. “What does that mean?”
“It means they don’t always get along,” Henry told him.
“Oh,” said Benny.
“Gwen’s been like a mother to Sharon ever since their parents died a few years ago,” Aunt Jane explained. “But Sharon’s getting older. She wants to do things by herself. I think that causes problems between them sometimes.”
The Aldens looked at one another. They were each thinking how lucky they were to get along so well.
Aunt Jane sighed. “It’s a shame. Opening week is hard enough for Gwen without Sharon getting upset.”
“Well, we can’t do anything about Sharon,” Benny put in. “But if that copycat plays any more practical jokes, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“I’m sure you will, Benny,” said Aunt Jane. “I’m sure you will.”
CHAPTER 4
A Trick of the Eye
The next morning, as soon as they had finished breakfast, the Alden children took the bikes that Aunt Jane kept for them and set off along the quiet country road. A gentle breeze was stirring the long grass and the birds were singing up a storm when they turned off the road onto the tree-lined driveway that led to the Historic Wagner Farmhouse.
“Look!” Benny shouted, pointing to the sign hanging from its post. “It’s still right where it belongs.”
Henry nodded. “So far, so good.”