“Let me do the talking, Uncle Charlie,” Biff said in a low voice.
“You bet I will, Biff. You know how to handle that giant.”
The Indian approached cautiously. His head pivoted from one direction to the other. Crunch was looking for the evil spirits.
“I have kept my promise, Crunch. I have not made the magic that would take me out of here.”
“I want you to let this man in here with me. I want to show you that we are your friends.”
Crunch was at the door. His hand pulled out the large key to the lock.
“Uncle Charlie, Crunch is going to let you come in with me. Then he will go back to the house for food for all of us—”
“But, Biff,” Charlie protested, “if I get locked in there with you—”
“It will be all right, Uncle Charlie. Crunch is our friend. We are his friends. Please, let me handle this my way.”
Charlie Keene shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, Biff.”
Crunch turned the key in the lock. He swung the door open. Charlie Keene entered, and Crunch closed and locked the door. Without another word, he disappeared in the darkness on the way to the big house.
“Biff, if I didn’t know you so well, I’d say you’d gone a little soft in the head.” Charlie Keene shook his own head. “Now we’re both locked in.”
Biff was lighting a candle. In the glow of its light, Uncle Charlie could see a big smile spread over his nephew’s face.
“You think so, Uncle Charlie? Watch this!”
Biff went to the door. He knelt down, holding the candle’s flame at the keyhole. He placed his thumb and forefinger carefully at the keyhole opening and grasped a small wire.
“This ought to work. I inserted this piece of wire in the lock’s catch. If it wasn’t dislodged when Crunch just now opened the door, then I should be able to spring the catch with this wire. Hold your breath, Uncle Charlie. Here goes.”
Biff tugged smoothly but firmly on the wire. There was a sharp “click.” The catch was sprung. Biff pushed the door open.
“But where did you dig up a piece of wire?” Uncle Charlie asked. “Maybe Crunch is right and you do have a touch of that old black magic.”
Biff chuckled. “Not black, Unc, blue magic.” Biff held out the separate parts of a blue plastic ballpoint pen. “I remembered I had this in my pocket. I removed the steel spring from it, straightened it the best I could, and used it.”