“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.”
“Well, I’ll be—” Charlie Keene said.
“Don’t you remember, Uncle Charlie? You taught me that trick.”