The police brought Muck back in a squad car. No handcuffs–just Muck in his sweatpants and his Screech Owls windbreaker, and the same sure look on his face that he’d had when he left. The parking lot was filled with players and parents, and a great cheer went up when Muck got out of the car. Sarah Cuthbertson broke out of the crowd and raced toward him, hugging him around his big middle. When she broke away, his T-shirt was wet from her tears.

Mr. Cuthbertson made an announcement that the six o’clock deadline had been cancelled. They’d finish out the week. There was still time to practice. And, of course, they still had to have the big tournament, Screech Owls against Aeros.

“What about the World’s Biggest Skinny Dip?” Travis whispered to Nish. “Is it still on?”

“Of course–even if the rest of you are so chicken I have to do it alone.”

“You haven’t the guts,” laughed Travis.

Muck was swarmed by the parents, who shook his hand and slapped his back and generally embarrassed him. He seemed relieved to be back, but also anxious to break away from the attention and get back to being nothing but the coach of the Screech Owls.

The boys were headed back to “Osprey” when Muck called to them and came over.

They stood about, not knowing what to say to each other, and then, one by one, they all hugged Muck, and he hugged back. And after that, no one could speak anyway.

Mr. Cuthbertson had found out all the details. Inspector Cox told him that poor old Mr. Clifford had confessed everything the moment they played Data’s tape for him.

The police figured that, under pressure from Buddy O’Reilly, the former owner of the camps had finally snapped. Mr. Clifford could no longer take the way Buddy was running things. They disagreed on everything, but particularly on the way Buddy treated the kids. He couldn’t stand the idea of Buddy forcing him out and taking full control.

When Morley Clifford witnessed the fight between Muck, Roger, and Buddy over the gun, he saw his opportunity. He took the rifle from Muck’s cabin, but he couldn’t find the box of bullets and he’d had to dig up two of them from behind the shed. He never meant to leave that empty shell in the boathouse, but he probably couldn’t find it in the dark. He panicked then, and decided to dump the rifle in the lake. He had been sure that Muck would have an alibi in case they found the gun and somehow connected the bullet to it–that way, the police would never figure out who had killed Buddy O’Reilly.

“It’s a pretty sad story,” said Mr. Cuthbertson. “The desire for revenge makes people do things no one would ever expect of them. But nothing justifies what he did. Nothing.”

Mr. Cuthbertson looked at the boys from “Osprey” cabin. “It’s a lucky thing for everyone that the police ended up with that tape recording, otherwise we might never have known what was going on.”

Nish looked around, smiling, his right hand raised in a royal wave.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you very much. Thank you very much.”