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whisper to the Aldens, “Sure hope I don’t see any ghosts lurking in the background when these pictures are developed.”
    When he was gone, Violet said, “I’ve got goose bumps just thinking about it.”
    “I don’t understand it,” said Henry, keeping his voice low. “Somebody’s going to a lot of trouble to make everyone think the farmhouse is haunted.”
    “You’re right, Henry,” agreed Jessie. “But it’s a mystery why anyone would want to do such a thing.”
    It was a mystery—but it was a mystery the Aldens were determined to solve.

CHAPTER 6
Aunt Jane’s Treat
    Benny was tearing the lettuce into bite-sized pieces for dinner. “Working as a tour guide sure gives me an appetite!” he said.
    “ Everything gives you an appetite, Benny.” Henry laughed as he took a wooden salad bowl down from the cupboard and handed it to his younger brother.
    After returning from the Wagner farm, the Aldens had gone for a quick dip in the pond near their aunt’s house. Now, cool and refreshed, they were busy helping with dinner.
    “I just can’t believe it!” said Aunt Jane, who still hadn’t gotten over the shock after hearing about the latest practical joke. “There was actually a canary inside the birdcage?”
    Jessie nodded as she sliced cucumbers for the salad. “Gwen said the canary couldn’t stay in the farmhouse, so Miss Pennink took the little bird home with her.”
    “Miss Pennink plans to bring the antique cage back in the morning,” added Henry as he carefully chopped up carrots and celery. “She’s going to buy a new birdcage for Nester.”
    Aunt Jane raised an eyebrow. “Is that the canary’s name?”
    Benny was washing a handful of cherry tomatoes under the tap. “Nester’s a very good name for a canary. Don’t you think so, Aunt Jane?”
    Aunt Jane smiled at Benny. “Absolutely! After all, birds do make nests,” she said.
    “Was that name, by any chance, your idea, Benny?”
    The youngest Alden beamed proudly. “How’d you guess?”
    “Oh, just a hunch.” Aunt Jane’s eyes twinkled.
    Jessie couldn’t help noticing that her sister was unusually quiet. “Is anything wrong, Violet?”
    “Not really.” Violet added another spoonful of mayonnaise to the potato salad, then smiled a little at Jessie. “I just can’t get the copycat off my mind.”
    Henry looked over at her as he put a basket of rolls and a dish of homemade pickles on the table. “Do you think you know who it is, Violet?”
    She shook her head. “No. But this person, whoever it is, sure knows a lot about Horace Wagner.”
    “That’s true,” said Henry. “He or she knows a lot about Horace and his practical jokes.”
    “Your first day on the job,” Aunt Jane said when they finally sat down at the table, “and already you’re knee-deep in a mystery.”
    Benny grinned. “Grandfather says we attract mysteries the way a magnet attracts iron.”
    “I’ll second that!” said Aunt Jane. Then a frown crossed her kind face. “I just hope you don’t get in over your heads.”
    “Don’t worry, Aunt Jane,” said Jessie. “We’ll look out for one another.”
    Aunt Jane smiled. “I know you will. That’s one thing I can always count on.”
    Henry spoke up. “Aunt Jane, you said that Draper Mills has been running the farm for a long time, right?”
    Aunt Jane nodded. “Ever since he was a young man. Most of the poetry he writes is about farm life. Draper’s an excellent poet, you know. He wrote a book of poetry called Where the Buttercups Grow. I believe Draper Mills loves that farm every bit as much as Miss Pennink does.” Aunt Jane paused for a moment. “In his heart, I think he’s glad to see it restored, thanks to Carl Mason.”
    “I know one thing,” said Benny as he passed the rolls. “Mr. Mason sure isn’t the copycat!”
    Henry lifted a slice of cold chicken onto his plate. “That’s true, Benny. Mr. Mason made it clear he doesn’t like jokes in the museum!”
    Aunt Jane put down her