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Then, taking the knife from his own hand, he slipped it into Muff’s hand.
    Three … four … five minutes passed before Potter began to stir more loudly. He found the knife in his hand, raised it, then let it fall with a shudder.
    â€œWha-wha-what happened?” said Muff.
    â€œSomething awful,” said Stinky. “The doc is dead. Why did you do it?”
    The moon went behind a cloud, but I couldn’t make myself move.
    â€œMe?” said Muff, quaking. “I never did it!”
    â€œI saw you kill the doctor,” said Joe. “I saw it!”
    Frankie grabbed me. “That is so not true!”
    â€œI know,” I whispered.
    â€œYou two were scuffling,” the Stinkmeister said to Muff. “Then he hit you with the headboard. You fell, then up you came, staggering, and took the knife and did it. I saw you.”
    Muff Potter’s eyes were bulging with disbelief. “I … I … I didn’t know what I was doing, then. It was all the drinking I did, I guess. It made a crazy man of me. Please, Joe, don’t tell anyone what I did. Oh, it’s terrible. You won’t tell, will you, Joe?”
    Joe shook his head, helping the chubby guy up. “You’ve always been fair and square with me, Muff Potter. I won’t tell on you.”
    Potter began to cry, but the moonlight, coming out suddenly, struck Joe’s face and showed he had no feelings at all.
    I was totally creeped out to be so near the guy.
    Muff Potter wandered off, reeling down the cemetery hill. Joe stood for a moment over the doctor, then strode off in another direction.
    Frankie and I could hardly move. Shivering, I stared at the scene while Frankie stared at the book.
    A few minutes later, the murdered man, the corpse in the wheelbarrow, and the open grave had disappeared, because Frankie had turned the page and we were gone.

Chapter 9
    We found ourselves racing back to the village, too scared to talk. When we caught up with Tom and Huck, they weren’t talking either. Their eyeballs were huge. Their skin was as pale as—as something really, really pale. They were stumbling and shaking.
    Finally, I said. “We have to tell somebody.”
    Huck gasped in horror. “Us? What are you talking about? Suppose Joe didn’t hang for the murder? He’d come after us like lightning. He’d end up killing us!”
    Tom nodded his head, breathing hard as we ran. “But can we keep quiet about it? I mean, can all of us?”
    We got to an old deserted building which looked scary enough, but was like the Happy Fun Place compared to the graveyard. All four of us tumbled in and fell exhausted into the shadows.
    â€œTom, we got to keep quiet about this,” said Huck. “And to make sure we do, we’ll sign a pact in blood. All of us.”
    Even in the shadows I could tell that Frankie got all stiff at the mention of that red stuff.
    â€œUm … excuse me, but I’ve seen enough blood tonight. And I like keeping mine on the inside.”
    Tom nodded thoughtfully. “But a blood pact is the only way.”
    Frankie shook her head. “It’s so unsanitary!”
    Huck had already found stuff for Tom to write the oath with. On a loose shingle Tom scratched the following words:
    Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer (and Devin and
    Frankie) swear they will keep mum about this
    and they wish they may Drop down dead
    in their tracks if they ever tell, and Rot.
    â€œGood words,” said Huck, taking a pin to draw blood.
    â€œYeah, great words,” said Frankie, “except for the ‘Devin and Frankie’ part. That part’s gotta go.” She crossed out our names, but Tom and Huck signed the bark with their blood.
    Frankie, not wanting to see any more blood, hid her face in the book and started to read. Before we knew it, it was noon the next day, and Frankie and I were standing in the center of the village, watching the streets fill up with people.