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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!

11
    B illy let out a squeak of terror, pulled free of Tim’s grasp, lurched sideways into the doorway, and fled. Tim wanted to follow but couldn’t make his feet or legs work.
    Then suddenly, the gymnasium flooded with light.
    “Who’s there?”
    A girl stepped through the doorway underneath the horrifying apparition. Tim was about to cry out a warning when he saw that the girl was holding a stick—and that the stick was attached to the ghost!
    That’s when he recognized the ghost for what it really was: a very creepy papier-mâché clown puppet, complete with exaggerated smile, bulbous nose, and wide, staring eyes. Last year, the puppet had lived at the arts and crafts center. Tim would never admit it,