The Copycat Mystery

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  “I’ve never been a tour guide before,” Benny said excitedly as he walked his bike beside Henry’s to the back of the farmhouse.

  “It will be fun to dress up in Victorian costumes,” admitted Violet. She sounded as excited as Benny.

  Leaving their bikes behind the old woodshed, they made their way around to the front of the house. When Benny knocked on the door, Jessie looked over at Henry. “Do you think Sharon will be any friendlier today?”

  Henry shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. But I guess we’ll soon find out.”

  They waited for a moment, then Benny knocked on the door again. “I hope Gwen didn’t forget about us,” he said, sounding worried.

  “Not a chance!” said a voice behind them.

  The children whirled around and saw Gwen coming up the porch steps. They hardly recognized her. She was wearing blue track pants and a white T-shirt, and her blond hair was pulled back into a pony-tail.

  “You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” she asked.

  “Oh, no,” Violet assured her. “We just got here.”

  Gwen led them along the wraparound porch to the far side of the house. “Let me show you the office first.” Unlocking the door, she said, “This is the only room in the house that doesn’t look the way it did during the Victorian era. Back then, it was a mudroom—just a place to leave muddy boots and coats. But now it’s used as an office and lunchroom.”

  The children glanced around at what appeared to be a modern kitchen, complete with a refrigerator and stove. In the corner was a desk with a computer, and beside it, a filing cabinet and a bulletin board full of notices.

  “As you can see,” Gwen went on, “the room’s a bit cramped, but it gives me a place to do my paperwork. And it’s a quiet spot for the volunteers to come and put their feet up and maybe have a cup of tea. There’s a washroom, too, and a little changing room.”

  Jessie slipped her backpack from her shoulders. “Is it okay if I put our sandwiches in the refrigerator?”

  “Sure thing,” said Gwen. “I always keep a jug of cold lemonade in there, too. Feel free to help yourselves anytime.”

  As Jessie put their lunches away, Gwen pointed to the far end of the room. “That door leads directly into the Victorian kitchen,” she told them. “But I’d like to take you in the front way. That’s where the visitors come in, so you might as well have the same tour you’ll be giving them. How does that sound?”

  It sounded wonderful. Without wasting another second, the Aldens filed out of the office. As they headed back along the porch, Benny’s smile disappeared for a second.

  “Do we have to remember everything you tell us?” he asked Gwen.

  She shook her head. “All the information’s kept in folders in the filing cabinet. You can always brush up on anything you forget.”

  Benny looked relieved.

  “The Victorians liked to impress their visitors,” Gwen said as they stepped through the front door. “Especially when they first entered the house.”

  “It is impressive,” admitted Jessie, and the others agreed as they gazed around a huge entrance hall with a winding staircase.

  Violet, who had brought her camera along, snapped a picture.

  “On your right is the parlor,” Gwen went on, stepping aside so they could see through the doorway. “It was used on important occasions.”

  The shadowy room was overflowing with old-fashioned furniture. Portraits in fancy frames covered the walls and the top of the piano, while faded red curtains kept out the morning sun.

  “Wow!” said Benny. “There’s hardly room to move in there.”

  Gwen laughed. “To the Victorians, there was no such thing as too much furniture.”

  “Those chairs don’t look very comfortable,” said Henry, thinking about the big, cozy chairs in Grandfather’s house.

  Gwen said, “The parlor shows how prim and proper the Victorians could be. It probably wasn’t easy sitting on those stiff-backed chairs for long.”

  Jessie spoke up. “There wasn’t any electricity back in the Victorian era, was there?”

  Gwen shook her head. “No, there wasn’t, Jessie. They used coal-oil lamps back then. The lamps were usually on all evening and that meant there was a lot of smoke in the rooms. But smoke rises, so the high ceilings helped.”

  Henry said, “I was wondering why the ceilings were so high.”

  “Was the smoke from the lamps really that bad?” asked Violet.

  “It sure was,” replied Gwen. “If the lamps weren’t cleaned every day, the smoke around the glass would dim the light.”

  Just before they went on their way, Gwen gazed around the room with a troubled look on her face. “I’ve got the strangest feeling,” she said.

  “Is anything wrong?” Violet inquired in her gentle voice.

  Gwen shrugged a little. “Something just doesn’t look quite right in here. But I’m not sure what it is.” After one more glance around, she said, “Anyway, let’s see the rest of the house, shall we?”

  They followed Gwen into the sitting room, where chairs with clawlike feet looked a little more comfortable than the ones in the parlor. Violet guessed from all the books on the shelves that the Victorians must have enjoyed reading. And she was right. Gwen told them the Victorians were very fond of books.

  In the dining room, a heavily carved table was set with pretty dishes. The children all agreed that it felt as if Horace and his family might sit down for dinner at any moment!

  When Gwen pushed the door of the Victorian kitchen open, she jumped in surprise.

  “Oh, Draper!” she cried. “I had no idea you were here. Is anything wrong?”

  Draper Mills had suddenly stopped in his tracks halfway across the room. When he saw the Aldens, he looked surprised, then annoyed. “I was, um . . . fixing one of the window shades,” he told Gwen in a nervous voice. “But I’ll be on my way now.” Then, with a few quick strides, he reached the door and was gone.

  “That’s odd,” said Gwen. “I didn’t know any of the shades needed fixing.” Then she added, “It’s a shame Draper’s such a shy man. I’m afraid it’s difficult for him to be around so many people.”

  Jessie nodded. “That’s what Aunt Jane said.” But she couldn’t help wondering if it was more than just shyness that had made Draper Mills rush away so quickly.

  Gwen pointed out a room just off the kitchen where the laundry was done. “This was called the scullery.”

  The Aldens looked through the door at two big tubs on either side of a wooden clothes wringer.

  “One tub was used for washing,” Gwen went on, “the other for rinsing.”

  “What’s under there?” asked Benny, pointing to where a fancy white tablecloth had been thrown over one of the washtubs.

  “Oh, that tub’s filled with old clothes,” replied Gwen. “We use the clothes in the laundry demonstration.”

  “What about this room?” asked Benny, peeking into another small room just beside the scullery.

  “That’s the pantry,” explained Gwen. “That’s where they kept the flour and sugar and everything else needed for cooking.” She glanced around. “I think the kitchen’s my favorite room in the house. And that big wood-burning stove over there,” she added with a sweep of her hand, “was a very important part of the room. It kept everyone warm and cozy during the cold winters. There’s even a water reservoir on the side of the stove. So, the family had hot water for baths and for the laundry and dishes.”

  Gwen paused. “And see those racks above the stove?”

  The Aldens looked up at the wooden poles.

  “During the winter,” Gwen went on, “the laundry was hung there to dry.”

  “Stoves sure were important back then,” observed Henry.

  Gwen smiled. “They were used for a lot more than just cooking.”

  Benny said, “I bet Mrs. McGregor would like a wood-burning stove.”

  “Mrs. McGregor’s our housekeeper,” explained Violet.

/>   After Gwen had taken them upstairs to see the bedrooms, Jessie said, “Thank you. That was a great tour.” And the other Aldens echoed her words. The truth was, though, Benny was a little disappointed. He was hoping to hear more about Horace Wagner and his practical jokes.

  When they returned to the office, they found Sharon dressed in Victorian costume, sitting at the table holding a small circle of cardboard by two strings. She barely looked up when the Aldens came into the room. She was busy spinning the cardboard circle around and around.

  “What is that?” Benny asked her.

  “A thaumatrope,” Sharon mumbled.

  “A thauma-what?”

  “Thaumatrope.” Sharon let the cardboard circle slow to a stop. “See? There’s a bird on one side and an empty birdcage on the other. Now watch what happens when I twist the string.”

  Curious, the other Aldens moved closer as the string began to unwind and the circle started to spin.

  “Now the bird’s inside the cage!” cried Benny.

  “I bet it’s an optical illusion,” guessed Jessie.

  Henry agreed. “A trick of the eye.”

  With a slow smile, Sharon explained, “The bird and the cage are spinning so quickly, they look like one picture instead of two. So the bird suddenly looks as if it’s inside the cage.” She held the thaumatrope out to Benny. “You can have it if you want.”

  “But it’s yours,” said Benny.

  “That’s okay.”

  “Really?”

  “They’re easy to make,” Sharon said.

  Benny was grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you very much.”

  Sharon was being very nice to Benny, Jessie thought.

  Gwen, who had gone to change into her Victorian costume, smiled over at the youngest Alden when she came back into the room. “I’m not surprised you like thaumatropes, Benny,” she said. “They were very popular during the Victorian era.”

  Benny gave the cardboard circle another spin. “I like the way the bird appears inside the cage.”

  Gwen was putting her track pants and T-shirt into the wardrobe cupboard when she suddenly turned around. “What did you say?”

  Benny looked puzzled. “I said, I like the way the bird appears inside the cage.”

  “Benny!” exclaimed Gwen. “That’s it!” And she ran from the room, leaving them all staring after her in amazement. When she came back a few minutes later, she was shaking her head.

  “What’s going on?” Sharon asked.

  “Are you okay?” Jessie inquired at the same time.

  Gwen sank down into a chair. She was quiet for a moment. “I knew something wasn’t quite right in the parlor,” she said at last. “I’ve been racking my brains trying to figure it out. Thanks to Benny, I finally did.”

  “What did you figure out?” asked Sharon.

  “There was an antique birdcage in the parlor,” Gwen whispered. “And now it’s gone!”

  CHAPTER 5

  The Copycat Strikes Again

  The Aldens were busy helping with tours all morning long. It wasn’t until they were having a break for lunch that they could talk about the mystery again.

  “You heard what Gwen said this morning,” Jessie reminded them as she unwrapped a tuna sandwich. “If the antique birdcage doesn’t show up by the end of the day she’ll have no choice but to call the police.”

  The day was getting hot, and Henry and Benny were barefoot, standing ankle-deep in the creek. Jessie and Violet sat on the grassy bank, their feet dangling in the cool water.

  Benny looked worried. “Mr. Mason’s not going to be very happy. You don’t think Gwen will lose her job, do you?” he asked as Jessie handed him a sandwich. “Mr. Mason was already upset about the farmhouse sign.”

  “I sure hope not, Benny, but . . .” Jessie stopped and let out a long sigh.

  “But,” finished Henry, “Mr. Mason holds Gwen responsible for what goes on around here.”

  Jessie nodded slowly. “It sure seems that way.”

  Violet said, “Why would anyone want to take a birdcage?”

  “That is strange.” Henry held out his cup while Jessie poured lemonade from a thermos. “I have a hunch that whoever took the birdcage probably moved the sign, too.”

  “I bet the copycat’s playing another practical joke,” said Benny, who was wading back and forth in the water.

  Violet wiggled her toes in the stream. “Well, it isn’t very funny,” she said. “I’m just glad there wasn’t a bird inside the cage.”

  “Gwen says she’s positive the birdcage was in the parlor when she locked up yesterday,” Jessie added.

  “There wasn’t any sign of forced entry,” Henry pointed out. “That’s why Gwen isn’t very eager to call the police. If the house wasn’t broken into, it can mean only one thing.”

  The other Aldens knew what Henry was going to say. It had to be someone who had keys to the farmhouse. But who was that someone? And was this another practical joke like the ones Horace Wagner had played so long ago?

  The children were quiet as they finished their lunch of sandwiches, chips, and fresh fruit. They had plenty of questions. The problem was, they didn’t have any answers. Finally, Henry looked at his watch. “We promised we’d help with the laundry demonstration.”

  “Right,” said Jessie as Violet took a quick picture of Henry and Benny. “I guess we should be going.”

  They were making their way through the long grass when they spotted Miss Pennink gathering wildflowers. She gave the Aldens a warm smile.

  “What a charming picture you make in those old-fashioned clothes!” she said. “By the way,” she added, “how do those pants feel, Benny?”

  “They feel just right!” Benny told her, with a nod and a grin. “Thanks for making them shorter, Miss Pennink.”

  “Well, we can’t have our guides tripping over their pant legs,” said Miss Pennink as she fell into step beside them. “Isn’t it a beautiful day to be out in the country?” she added.

  The Aldens were quick to agree. “Do you miss living out here, Miss Pennink?” Violet wondered.

  “Oh, yes,” she replied. “Of course, I have a very nice little house in town. And it does have a bit of a backyard. But this farm still feels like home to me. It does my heart good, though, to see the old place restored.

  “Draper, of course, did his best to keep the house from completely falling apart,” she went on. “But the truth is, I didn’t have enough money to pay for all the work that needed to be done. Now, thanks to the museum, the farmhouse looks just as wonderful as it did before the days of electricity and indoor plumbing.”

  “Our boxcar didn’t have electricity, either,” Benny commented. “Or running water. And you know what else? We even cooked over an open fire!”

  After the Aldens took turns telling Miss Pennink all about their boxcar days, she shook her head in amazement. “What smart children you are!” she exclaimed. “And maybe you didn’t have electricity or running water, but you had something else.”

  They turned to look at her.

  “You had one another,” she told them. “And that’s more important than anything else.”

  The Aldens knew it was true, and they exchanged happy glances. “Now we have Grandfather, too,” Violet said in a soft voice.

  “Don’t forget about Mrs. McGregor and Watch,” Benny added. “Their pictures are in the Alden family album, too.”

  Miss Pennink suddenly lowered her voice. “There used to be a picture of my great-great-grandfather in the parlor of the farmhouse,” she said.

  Henry looked puzzled. “Used to be?”

  Miss Pennink leaned closer and whispered, “Carl Mason had it removed!”

  The Aldens were surprised to hear this. “Why did he do that?” asked Benny.

  “Because Carl Mason has no sense of humor whatsoever!” cried Miss Pennink. No sooner had the words escaped than she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say that. It just upsets me that Mr. Mason wants t
he world to . . . well, to forget all about Horace Wagner!”

  “Your great-great-grandfather’s picture was actually removed from the parlor?” Jessie said, finding it hard to believe.

  “The farmhouse wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Horace Wagner!” Violet pointed out.

  Miss Pennink nodded. “I suppose Mr. Mason was afraid it would raise a few questions about Horace and his practical jokes. From visitors, I mean.”

  “Why would anyone ask about his practical jokes,” Henry wanted to know, “just because of a photograph?”

  “Because Horace could never resist a practical joke,” Miss Pennink explained, smiling a little. “Not even when he was being photographed.”

  The children stared wide-eyed at Miss Pennink. “What do you mean?”

  Miss Pennink’s voice was hushed. “In the photograph, Horace has a flower tucked behind his ear!”

  Henry, Jessie, Violet, and Benny looked at one another and began to laugh.

  Miss Pennink laughed, too, as they continued through the orchard. “That portrait really is the funniest thing!” she said. “Horace looks so solemn and stern, but he has this silly flower that ought to be in his buttonhole—”

  “Stuck behind his ear!” finished Benny. He liked Horace Wagner!

  “I’d like to see that photograph!” said Henry.

  Violet was still giggling. “Your great-great-grandfather sure wasn’t a prim and proper Victorian, Miss Pennink.”

  “No, indeed!” agreed Miss Pennink. “And one way or another, I intend to make sure everyone knows it!” With that, she marched up the porch steps and disappeared into the farmhouse.

  The Aldens exchanged puzzled looks. What did Miss Pennink mean by one way or another?

  They had little time to think about it, though. When they stepped into the Victorian kitchen, they caught sight of Sharon holding up an antique birdcage!

  Gwen was shaking her head in bewilderment. “I can’t believe it! How in the world did a bird get inside that cage?”

  The Aldens looked closer. Sure enough, a little yellow canary was flitting from perch to perch!

  Benny’s eyes were huge. “Is that another optical illusion?”