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out to the backyard. “Dad’s computer search turned up a lot of information,” he said.
    â€œBut not enough,” Brian answered.
    â€œHe’ll come up with more.”
    Brian lowered his voice. “All that takes time, and time is what we haven’t got. The exhibit is supposed to open in less than a week. I think we can help Dad if we—”
    He stopped.
    â€œIf we what?” Sean asked.
    â€œI have a plan,” Brian said. “This is what I want you to do. Tomorrow, bring your camera to the museum and take pictures of everything you can. Try to get pictures of the employees we haven’t met. On your way home stop off at the one-hour photo place to get the film developed.”
    â€œWhat will the pictures show us?”
    â€œWe won’t know until we see them,” Brian answered. “But we might discover something that will help us.” He frowned. “The way things are going, we need all the help we can get!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

    A S BRIAN ENTERED SAM MIYAKO'S kitchen, something slapped him across the shoulders.
    â€œHiya!” yelled Sam’s little brother, Charlie. He raised a long cardboard tube and aimed it at Brian. But Sam stepped in with a tube of his own, sending Charlie’s tube flying.
    â€œMom’s wrapping Charlie’s birthday presents,” Sam said as Charlie snatched up both tubes and ran from the room. “We were playing sword fight with the cardboard tubes inside the gift wrap.”
    â€œThat reminds me,” Brian said. “At the museum today I saw this weird sword that fits inside a hollow cane. It was supposed to be a hundred years old.”
    Sam put on a spooky accent. “Ze sword vas mebbe carried by a crazed vampire looking for victims caught in ze fog.”
    Brian grinned. “Vampires don’t need swords. They have teeth.”
    â€œEet vas an old, toothless vampire needing help.”
    â€œBad guess.”
    â€œEet vas a young vampire who kept hiz lunch money in ze cane and used ze sword to try to cut hiz school cafeteria food?”
    â€œFunny, but hopeless,” Brian said.
    Sam shrugged. “Would your parents like to adopt me?” he suddenly asked.
    â€œDon’t tell me you’re in trouble again,” Brian said.
    â€œNobody in this house appreciates a good sense of humor,” Sam said.
    Brian groaned. “That means you scared your little brother again. Right?”
    â€œI didn’t think he’d get really scared. I mean, not enough to have nightmares. I just asked him if he knew that monsters live inside the walls of houses and ooze through the cracks at night and climb under beds to get warm.”
    â€œAll I can say is, if you tell Sean that story, you won’t get adopted, you won’t get dinner, and you probably won’t even get a friendly look from Mom or Dad.”
    â€œAs I said, nobody appreciates a good sense of humor,” Sam complained.
    Brian laughed. “Hey, Sam,” he said. “I need my history book back.”
    â€œNo problem,” Sam said. “I’ll be right back.” As Sam went to get the book, Brian wished Mrs. Gomez hadn’t told his dad to keep the situation as quiet as possible. He would have liked to have told Sam about the museum thefts. Sam was his best friend and sometimes came up with very good ideas.
    Later that evening, as Brian passed by Sean’s bedroom, he poked his head inside and saw Sean sitting up in bed. He was reading the pamphlet he’d picked up at the museum and was laughing out loud to himself.
    â€œYou’re weird,” Brian said.
    â€œThank you,” Sean said. “Debbie Jean Parker’s going to think so, too.”
    â€œDon’t forget your camera tomorrow,” Brian said. “I’m eager to see if anything turns up in your photos.”
    The next morning, when Sean’s class arrived at the museum for its tour, George Potts