Crunch left his sentence hanging in air. He stared in disbelief at the front of the tent.
He was looking at Derek. His eyes swung from Derek to Biff, then back to Derek and back again from one boy to the other.
“Is more magic!” Crunch howled, terror in his voice. He turned to run.
“Wait, Crunch. Stop.” Biff ran over to the Indian and took him by the arm. “It’s no more magic. There are really two of us. Me—I’m Biff. That’s my name. He’s my friend Derek. Come here, Derek.”
Derek joined them.
“Touch him, Crunch.”
Crunch’s hand went out carefully. He touched Derek, then drew his hand back quickly.
“You see, Crunch, he’s not a ghost, not a spirit. He’s a real person. Just like I am. The only thing, we look very much alike.”
Crunch could only shake his head. If his faith in Biff had not been so great, he would have turned and fled.
“All right, Crunch. You believe me? You know you’re not just seeing things?”