"Beth? Where are you? Come on, this isn't funny. Beth? How can you do this to me?"

            "Excuse me. Are you looking for someone?"

            The suddenness of the old man's words took fourteen-year-old Becca Tomson by surprise. With her concentration fixed on finding her twin sister, she wondered how she'd managed to walk past the man without noticing him. She also wondered how she ended up in a dead-end hallway, staring straight into a brick wall.

            Dressed in a bright red jacket and black top hat reminiscent of an old-time circus master, the man stood out as a bit of a spectacle. Perhaps he worked here at Boldt Castle, an actor come to play the role of someone from a time long passed. Stunned by this sudden intrusion, Becca took a moment to collect herself before responding to the stranger.

            "Well, yes," she began. "I'm looking for my sister. I thought she came this way, but now I'm not so sure."

            "Blonde-haired girl, blue shirt, looks a lot like you?" the old man asked in a manner more akin to a statement than a question.

            Becca nodded, then scanned the area around them. In her haste to locate her twin, she found herself in a darkened section of the castle, somewhere in the basement wing. Other than the stranger, there was no one else nearby. Something about the old man unnerved her, and she wasn't quite certain why.

            Perhaps it came from the fact she was out of breath, heart still pounding from her run through the many rooms and connecting halls of Boldt Castle. What began as an innocent game of hide had transformed into a wild goose chase. It was fun at first, but now it felt more like a frustrating jaunt through this wonderful landmark in the heart of the 1000 Islands.

            According to the girl on the tour boat, it was built by a self-made millionaire named George C. Boldt as a tribute to his beloved wife, Louise. Construction of the enormous stone structure started in 1900 but stopped abruptly in January of 1904 with news of her unexpected passing. It soon fell into disrepair until the local bridge authority began renovations some 20 years earlier, in 1977.

            Now, on June 5, 1997, Becca found herself face to face with this tall and lanky stranger in the bright red coat. 

            "Hey Becca—I'm over here—catch me if you can!" Beth's familiar voice pulled her out of the seeming trance brought on by the old man's unexpected arrival. To her surprise, it came from behind them. Where moments before she stood staring at a brick wall, in its place a passageway now appeared, signaling the continuation of the corridor.

            "That's her, that's my sister. I've gotta go," she said, turning her attention back toward the man.  "What the? Where did he go?"

            "Where did who go?" Beth answered, poking her head around a corner before advancing toward her sister. "Are you talking to yourself again?"

            "No. Someone was here, an old man with a red coat and a top hat. Looked like he escaped from a circus or something, but he disappeared.

            "Whoa! I'll bet it's the ghost of Boldt Castle. I'm scared," Beth countered, mocking her twin. "Ghost or no ghost, you're not going to get out of being 'it' this easy. Come on, we haven't got all day, we're supposed to meet mom and dad on the dock in an hour."

            Having made her point she turned and sprinted back around the corner, knocking a small boy down in her haste to continue the game of hide and seek.

            "Hey, watch where you're going!" he shouted, his words echoing through the tunnel-like hallway.

            "What's the matter, Pauly," a second boy chimed in.

            "Oh, nothing, just some dumb girl ran me over."

            "I'm so sorry," Becca offered in defense of her sister. Unlike Beth, she walked around the corner in time to see the boy go sprawling. "Here, let me help you up," she added, smiling. "She gets a little carried away sometimes."

            "I guess so," the one referred to as Pauly shot back. "When you find her, tell her to slow down."

            "I will," she assured him. "If I ever catch up to her."

            "She went that way," the other boy said, pointing in the direction of the dimly lit hallway. "I think she went to the left."

            "Thank you."

            This time she did run, hoping to get a glimpse of her runaway sister before she caused any more damage.

            When she walked out of earshot, the two boys spoke.

            "Wow, Pauly, that girl was beautiful."

            "Which one?"

            "Both of them. The one we talked to and the one who knocked you down. I think they're twins, just like us."

            "I didn't notice, Owen. I didn't even see the girl who ran me over, and I'm not sure I want to. Come on, let's get out of here. Gramma Wells is going to be upset if we don't come back soon."

            "Always worrying," Owen replied, shaking his head. "Stop acting like an old man."

            The hallway came to an end, and Becca charged up a flight of stairs and onto the first floor of the castle. She tried her best to apprehend her sister, but ended up in a busier area. Like her, they were tourists, and as such they moved at a slow pace while marveling over the wonders of the impressive structure.

            In contrast to Beth, she had no desire to go plowing through anyone unfortunate enough to be standing in the way. Just the same, it was easy to determine her sister's path. The expressions on the faces of the other sightseers when they saw her coming spoke volumes. She may not have been the culprit, but based on her appearance it was a safe bet that they were together.

            Other than the color of their shirts, they were a mirror image of one another, with the exception of a golden locket dangling from a gold chain around Becca's neck. With straight blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, it was impossible to tell them apart without spending time in their company. And right now she had no time to spend explaining or apologizing for her sister's rude behavior.

            She emerged from one of the rooms and onto a porch facing the beautiful waters of the St. Lawrence River. Down a small set of stairs an asphalt pathway awaited her, bordered by flowers and a well-manicured lawn. Some forty yards ahead she spotted her sister, still on the move and heading down toward a lofty stone tower at the head of the island. Beth was too far away for her to yell, so Becca did the next best thing and began to run, as fast as her legs would carry her, in pursuit.

            She would never be mistaken for an Olympic runner, or even a halfway decent high-school sprinter for that matter, but Becca put one foot in front of the other at a rapid pace until she reached her destination—an impressive and towering structure.

            One of the few finished buildings from the early days of Heart Island, Alster Tower came to be known as the playhouse. Created as the ultimate family recreation center, the Boldts were able to make use of the sixty-foot-tall stone building before work ceased in 1904.

            Becca knew nothing about the name, or the history of Alster Tower. What she did know was that the building featured an immense turret built on a two-story base. A quick glance also revealed no means of escape other than the front door. Perhaps this time her sister had outsmarted herself.

            A smile of satisfaction flashed across her face as she wiped the sweat from her forehead. "I've got you now," she said, reaching for the door handle.