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bridge last night had left a clue.
    “Let’s spread out,” Jessie suggested. “That way we can cover more ground.”
    “Good idea,” said Henry. “If anybody sees anything, shout.”
    “Don’t worry,” Benny piped up. “I’ll shout really loud.”
    After making a careful search of the bridge, Henry walked over to where Violet was combing the bushes. “Any luck?” he asked.
    “Not so far,” Violet admitted.
    “We checked out the flowerbeds under the bridge,” Jessie said when she and Benny joined them, “but—”
    “We struck out,” finished Benny.
    “Hi there, kids!” It was Spence Morton. He was coming around the side of the house. “Is Norah around?” He flashed them a smile.
    Henry said only, “I’m afraid not.”
    Benny folded his arms. “And for your information, the bridge isn’t for sale.”
    Spence held up a hand. “Whoa, I didn’t come to pester Norah. I’m here to apologize.”
    “Apologize?” Jessie echoed.
    “I put a lot of pressure on Norah to sell me her bridge,” Spence explained. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
    “And you tried to scare everybody!” Benny said accusingly.
    “What …?” Spence blinked.
    Benny said, “You made it look like the bridge really was haunted.”
    “No, I didn’t do that!” Spence looked startled. “I know I made a nuisance of myself, but I’d never pull a stunt like that.” He looked at each of the Aldens in turn. “I have children of my own,” he added. “I’d never try to scare kids like that.”
    The Aldens looked at each other. They had a feeling Spence Morton was telling the truth.
    Spence continued, “Last night, I had a chat with the lady from the gas station. She told me that Norah’s great-great-grandfather, Jon Eton, proposed to his wife on that bridge. She said he had it shipped all the way to America as a special gift for his homesick bride.”
    “That’s right,” said Violet.
    “The article in the paper never mentioned anything about it,” Spence went on. “I understand now why Norah refused to bargain. How can you put a price tag on family history?” He paused to gaze admiringly at the bridge. “Please say goodbye to Norah for me. It’s time I was heading home.” With a cheery wave, he walked away.
    “Well, I guess that rules Spence Morton out as a suspect,” Jessie said, climbing the porch steps.
    “It rules Darlene out, too,” added Henry as they trooped into the kitchen.
    Benny sniffed the air. “Something sure smells good in here!”
    Pam was taking a tray of cookies out of the oven. She smiled over at the youngest Alden. “Ready to do some decorating?” she asked him. “See what I’ve got? Butternut frosting and sprinkles!”
    Benny didn’t need to be asked twice. After washing his hands, he set to work while Pam started on another batch of cookies.
    The other Aldens sat around the table and tried to make sense of Meg’s verse.
    Jessie opened her notebook and read aloud.
    When last goes first,
    and first goes last,
    Eton’s Loop will show you
    a clue from the past.
    Once … twice … three times she read the verse. But it was no use. They still didn’t have the faintest idea what it meant.
    Violet glanced over to where Pam was adding a drop of vanilla to the cookie batter. “Do you bake at home, too, Pam?” she asked. “For your parents, I mean.”
    Pam looked at Violet in a strange way. “Why do you mention my parents?” she said in a cold voice.
    Violet sensed she’d said the wrong thing. “I just meant …” her voice trailed off.
    Jessie and Henry exchanged a glance. What’s that all about? the look seemed to say. No one was sure what to say next. Then Pam dashed out of the room.
    “That was odd,” Jessie said, keeping her voice low.
    Henry agreed. “Pam sure doesn’t like talking about her parents.”
    “It does seem that way,” admitted Violet.
    As everyone gathered round to admire all the cookies, Benny said, “See the star-shaped one I decorated for Pam? Her