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becoming a slave in my own restaurant."

"He doesn't talk like a plantation slave," I whispered. Amanda was quick to answer. "Ford's master was a Shakespearean actor. He thought that's how white people talked, so he imitated him."

Just then, the door rang. Mrs. Ford answered. A small Chinese man entered the home.
"Wow! That must be Choy!" Amanda exclaimed.
"Who's Choy?" I asked.

"Choy owned the Chinese laundry on Main Street," Mrs. Gelgrib explained. "The Chinese were brought to Breckenridge to work in the mines. Needless to say, the other miners were not fond of them."

"The Chinese were called Celestials," Amanda piped in.
"Celestials?" I asked. "Weren't they some kind of extra-terrestrial characters in the Marvel Comics?"

"Different kind of Celestial," Timothy answered.

Mrs. Ford invited Choy to stay for tea. "I wonder if they're serving Celestial Seasonings." I commented. Timothy stifled a laugh. He laughs at my jokes. I think I'm in love!
Choy was excited. "Mr. Ford," he exclaimed. He opened a small sack, which was filled with small pieces of gold. Ford looked confused. "Choy, you don't even work in the mines."

Choy laughed. "When I strain wash water, I find pieces of gold. I collect enough to make a ring."

"Are you getting married?" Mrs. Ford asked.

"No, not me. But that nice Mr. Herkle is engaged to Miss castle. Mr. Herkle very nice to me. I give him gold to make nice ring."

Timothy and I looked at each other. Mr. Herkle? Miss Castle? What is going on? Mrs. Gelgrib interrupted our "special moment."
"Come along," she said. We'll be late for tea with Mrs. Briggle."
On the walk to the Briggle home, Timothy played back the video he had taken at the Ford Museum. He looked disturbed.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"The tape is blank."
"Is there something wrong with your camera?"
"Let's see." He let the camera run for a few moments, and then played back the film. No problem.
"Maybe, we're time traveling when we go into the museum," Amanda suggested.
"Why would that affect the camera?" Timothy asked.
"Because this kind of camera hadn't been invented," she answered.
"Smart Aleck," Timothy grumbled.

As we entered Mrs. Briggle's home, a group of ladies were gossiping at the tea table. "Here we go again," Timothy grumbled. He looked around for Mrs. Gelgrib, but she was gone. Reluctantly, he took out his camera and began filming. Apparently, Mrs. William Briggle was the society matron of Breckenridge. Kathleen Briggle was known for her tea parties. She looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place

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