The hook shot lesson came to an end a few minutes later because dinner was starting. Tim and Dick walked together into the dining hall, where Dick was immediately surrounded by people asking about his injury.
Tim moved away to pick up his food. He sat down at an empty table to eat, chewing slowly as he thought about his newest predicament.
The hook shot promised to be a very powerful tool. But the shot was worthless unless it worked during a game. And the only way to make it work during a game was to practice it in gamelike situations. To do that, he needed a defender.
Dick would have been his first choice, but obviously, he was out.
Then who? Tim glanced at the table where the other boys from the Eagles Nest had gathered. Sam? He’s been friendly, even when everyone else was ignoring me.
Even as the thought crossed Tim’s mind, Sam said something that made Mike Gruber laugh uproariously. Tim shook his head. Sam was friendly—with everyone. If he helped Tim, would he be able to keep the practice sessions a secret from the others? Tim wasn’t sure.
That was the trouble, Tim realized. He needed someone who knew how to play basketball well enough to defend against him. But if he was to keep his new weapon a secret from Mike, it would be best if that person wasn’t on the Eagles Nest team.
Who do I know who fits that description?
He finished his supper without coming up with the answer. He was on his way out the door when someone called his name.
“Hey, Tim! Wait up!”
Tim turned to see Billy hurrying toward him. “Hi, Billy, how’s it—” He stopped in mid-sentence and clapped his hand to his forehead. “Billy! Of course! Why didn’t I think of you before?”
Billy gave Tim a wary look. “Think of me before what?”
Tim pulled Billy away from the other campers who were leaving the dining hall and explained the situation to his friend. “So I was hoping that while everyone else is at the bonfire tonight, you could help me practice the shot. What do you say?”
Billy chewed on his lower lip. “Won’t we get in trouble for skipping the fire without permission?”
“We won’t miss the whole thing,” Tim assured him. “We’ll show up at the start. Then we’ll ask to use the latrine or something. We’ll practice for half an hour and then come back before anyone misses us. Come on, please?”
Billy let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he said. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll do it. But if we get caught—”
“I’ll take full blame,” Tim promised.
An hour later, Tim and Billy were at the bonfire with the rest of the Eagles Nest. They were singing along to a ridiculous song about a dog named Lima who had roamed away from home only to return “all nice and clean,” prompting the question, “Where, oh where, has Lima been?” The song went on and on, with campers shouting out the names of different beans like coffee, string, and jelly.
While the other boys were laughing and singing, Tim poked Billy and whispered, “Let’s go!”
Billy looked nervous, but he followed Tim into the darkness. They found the paved path that led to the outdoor courts. But before they got there, Tim heard the sound of girls laughing and basketballs bouncing on the hardtop. Members of the girls’ camp were already there.
“Change of plans!” he hissed to Billy. “This way!” He veered onto a new path with Billy at his heels.
But when Billy saw where they were headed, he stopped short. “The gym? Are you nuts? We’re not allowed in there!”
Tim knew Billy was right. But he was so desperate to practice the hook shot that he refused to give up. So when Billy started to leave, Tim caught hold of his shirt and tugged him back.
“Let’s just check the door,” he said persuasively. “If it’s locked, we leave. If not, we’ll get in a little bit of practice and then leave.”
They stared at each other for a long minute. Then Billy rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into these things.”
Tim hadn’t really expected the door to be open, but the handle twisted easily in his grip. He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
If the empty gym had seemed weird in the afternoon, at night it was downright eerie. Pale moonbeams cast ghostly shadows. The basket strings hung like giant spiderwebs in the gloom; all that was missing, Tim thought with a shiver, were multi-eyed, eight-legged monsters. Even the bleachers looked frightening, rising up the side walls like black, jagged cliffs. Anyone—or anything—could be lurking there!
Billy shrank back and would have bolted if Tim hadn’t grabbed his arm. Tim started to whisper that they’d only stay for half an hour. Then he heard a small sound. He turned to see what it was—and the words died in his throat.
A closet door was slowly creaking open. As he stared, a ghastly head rose out of the shadows!