CHAPTER XIVA Talk with Crunch

Just in time, too. The black limousine came up the road, passed through the gate, and drew up in front of the porch. Dietz got out. Crunch got out. Biff could see Dietz speak to Crunch. The big Indian bowed his head and walked off in the direction of the small house where Biff had first seen him.

“Good,” Biff said half aloud. “At least, I won’t have to worry about Crunch being present when I go up there.”

He waited a few minutes more. Specks returned from parking the car, joined Dietz, who had waited on the porch, and the two men entered the house. The porch light went off. Lights inside the house came on.

“Well, it’s now or never. This is it, Biff Brewster. Get hold of yourself and start moving.”

Biff crossed the yard again and mounted the steps leading to the porch. His heart was pounding. He swallowed, but the lump in his throat stayed where it was. Biff’s knuckles rapped on the door. He stepped back. He heard footsteps approaching. The door opened. It was Specks.

Specks’ mouth dropped open in amazement. His face went pale. The red blotches on his cheeks became even redder against the whiteness of his skin.

“Who is it, Specks?” Biff heard Dietz call.

Specks didn’t answer. He was speechless.

“Who’s there?” Dietz called again. “What is it? Specks!” he snapped. “What’s happened to you?”

Biff stepped forward.

“May I come in?”

As he stepped inside the house, Specks took a step backward. He must have thought he was seeing a ghost. Just then Dietz came into the hallway. He took one look at Biff, and the glass he was holding in one hand dropped to the floor.

“Zook! Derek Zook!”

Dietz was as astonished as Specks. But being quicker-witted than his partner, Dietz got over his amazement faster.

“It’s Zook. Grab him, Specks!”

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Dietz,” Biff said boldly. “I have come here on my own.”

Still not believing what he saw or heard, Dietz came up to Biff. He placed a hand on Biff’s arm, as though trying to assure himself that the boy was real.

Biff brushed past the two men and walked down the hallway to a door which led into a living room. He walked in, picked out a comfortable chair, and sat down in it as calmly as if he were in his own home in Indianapolis.

Still somewhat dazed, Dietz entered the room and stared at Biff. Specks stood in the doorway, shaking his head.

Dietz recovered his poise.

“What are you doing here? Why have you come back?” he demanded.

“This is going to be fun,” Biff thought. “Didn’t know I was going to knock them for this much of a loop.” Aloud, he said:

“I haven’t been away.”

“You mean—you mean all the time we were in Willemstad looking for you, you were right here!”

“Most of the time,” Biff answered truthfully.

“Go get Crunch,” Dietz ordered Specks. A gleam had come into his eyes. He was getting ready to take over.

“Now you tell me why you have come back here,” Dietz said to Biff, and walked over to the chair where Biff was sitting.

“I want information,” Biff said. “I want to know where my father is.”

“Oh, you do. And you think I’ll tell you just for the asking.” Dietz’s laugh was more of a sneer.

“We may be able to make a bargain,” Biff said.

Dietz leaned forward. A hungry look spread over his face.

“You mean if I tell you where your father is—” he began.

“I might persuade him to cut you in on the pearl fishery. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Dietz didn’t reply. He walked across the room and stood by a long, low table. His hand went to his head. He rubbed his scalp. His long silence worried Biff. It was obvious that some scheme was forming in Dietz’s mind. He came back to Biff.

“I’ll tell you where your father is if you’ll tell me the exact location of the pearl fishery.” Dietz poked his crafty face close to Biff’s.

Biff could hardly suppress a smile. He knew that neither one of them could give the other the information asked for. Biff didn’t know where the pearl fishery was. He also knew that Dietz didn’t know where Brom Zook was. This was going to be a cat-and-mouse game. Biff just hoped it could be played long enough for his uncle and Derek to get things firmed up in Martinique.

“Can you take me to my father?”

“Not until you give me the information I want,” Dietz replied.

“Is he here in Curaçao, or in Martinique?” Biff asked this question to stall for more time. He knew Dietz couldn’t give him an honest answer.

Before Dietz could reply, Specks returned. The giant Crunch was behind him.

“Now, young man, you’ll find out just what a fool you were not to stay away from here once you had made your escape,” Dietz declared.

The tide was running against Biff. There was a look of triumph on Dietz’s evil face.

“I came here with a fair proposition for you,” Biff said.

“Fair? Never heard the word,” Dietz replied, his voice scornful. “You’ve walked and talked yourself right into being my prisoner again. And this time, Crunch will make sure you don’t escape.”

Biff looked at the powerful Crunch. There was a big, silly smile on his face. He clenched and unclenched his hands, as if he could hardly wait to get Biff in his grip.

“You young fool,” Dietz said. “Don’t you know you and Keene can’t get the working permit to that fishery unless you sign for it?”

“But neither can you.”

“Ha! That’s what you think. It so happens, you stupid boy, that I have a friend in the Fisheries Commission on Martinique. You and Keene may have stopped me once. But you won’t again. Crunch, take him away. And this time, if you let him escape—” Dietz drew the edge of his hand across his throat “—that’s what you’ll get.”

Crunch crossed to Biff’s chair. He seized Biff by one arm and lifted him out of the chair as if he weighed no more than a rag doll.

Biff knew it would be foolish to resist. His plan had backfired.

Why, he thought, with a sinking feeling, hadn’t he or Uncle Charlie realized that Dietz, thinking Biff to be Derek, would hold him, and make for Martinique as fast as he could? Biff realized now that, far from delaying Dietz’s trip to Martinique, he had afforded him the chance to go there sooner.

He knew this all too well as Crunch forced him down the hallway toward the door. He heard Dietz say to Specks:

“We leave for Martinique in the morning.”

Although Biff’s strategy had backfired, it did give his uncle a slight jump on Dietz.

Just after daybreak, Charlie Keene and Derek were at the waterport where Keene kept his seaplane. He warmed up the plane’s twin engines. He pointed the plane’s nose into the wind, and the aircraft streaked across mirror-flat water. The seal between plane’s hull and the sea was broken, and the plane was airborne.

Charlie Keene put the plane on a course direct for Martinique, a little over five hundred miles away. If all went well, they would land at Fort-de-France in under three hours. That would get them there in time for the opening of the office of the Fisheries Commission.

Dietz wouldn’t be able to leave until the commercial flight at 9A.M.He wouldn’t get to Martinique until noon.

“I hope Biff’s all right,” Derek said to Biff’s uncle. The plane was high over the sparkling waters of the Caribbean Sea. The island of Curaçao was only a small dot in the sea behind them. Directly below, they saw a slender, cigar-shaped cruise ship heading for the port Charlie Keene and Derek had just left.

“Biff’s been in plenty of tough spots, Derek. I’ve been in some of them with him. I’d never have let him take that chance if I didn’t think he could handle it. Still—I won’t have any peace of mind until we’re all together again.”

“That will be good, Mr. Keene. It seems I only see Biff for a few minutes, then we’re separated again. I like Biff. I want to know him better.”

Uncle Charlie smiled. It pleased him that his nephew and Derek had become friends.

“You will, Derek. And you’re right. Biff’s as fine a fellow as you’ll ever know. You two ought to have a great time, skin diving for pearls. You ever do any skin diving?”

“Some. In the Mediterranean. I went there with my grandparents last summer. Biff’s done a lot of skin diving, I’ll wager.”

“He sure has, Derek. In Hawaii and off the coast of Southern California. His family has a cottage on a lake out there. The whole family goes in for the sport.”

A little after eight-thirty, the island of Martinique came into view.

“Another ten minutes and we’ll be there,” Charlie said. He put the plane into a long, gentle descent. They came in low over Fort-de-France, circled the city, then came back to set down in the harbor.

At about the same time Charles Keene was setting the seaplane down, Crunch was setting Biff’s breakfast before him. While Crunch had been at the big house to pick up the food, Biff had inspected his prison carefully. It didn’t take him long to determine that escape was out of the question. The iron bars on the windows were three-quarters of an inch thick and deeply imbedded in the concrete. Biff tested each bar, just in case there might be a loose one.

“Not a chance,” Biff thought. “I’m here until someone comes for me. Unless—unless I can outfox Crunch again.”

Now, Biff and Crunch ate their breakfasts in silence. When they had finished, Biff tried to draw the giant out. His first questions were met with grunted replies.

“You know, Crunch,” Biff tried again, “I’ve been all over the world, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man as big and strong as you are.”

A pleased smile came over the Indian’s face. He still didn’t say anything.

“In China, I knew a man called Muscles. I thought he was strong. But you could handle him easily.”

The pleased smile on Crunch’s simple face grew broader.

“I suppose your boss Dietz has already gone?” Biff shot the question in while Crunch was still enjoying the flattery.

Crunch froze. The pleased expression left his face.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I know he’s gone. I heard the car leave early this morning.”

“You hear car leave, you know boss gone. Why you ask?” Crunch demanded.

“Just something to talk about, Crunch,” Biff said casually. “We’re going to get mighty tired of one another just sitting here in silence.”

The Indian didn’t reply.

“You know, Crunch, I think I could get to like you. You don’t look like a bad man to me.”

“Crunch good man,” the Indian said.

“Then why do you work for Dietz?” Biff asked.

No reply.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me. But I know we could be friends. I’m not going to try to get away from you.”

“You do one time. Make fool out of Crunch. Boss Dietz very mad at Crunch.”

“You’re not going to believe this, Crunch, but I never did escape from you. Honestly.”

“Now you make joke with Crunch. You get away. Last night. Before sky get dark.”

“How could I, Crunch?” Biff asked. “Have you looked around the windows? The bars are still all in them, aren’t they?”

“Crunch look good. Bars all there. You get out by magic.”

Biff laughed. “Well, I must admit, I did use a trick.”

“See. Crunch know. You get out by magic.”

“If I got out by magic once, why couldn’t I do it again? Like right now.”

Biff stood up. Crunch leaped to his feet and grabbed Biff by the arm.

“You go, Crunch go with you,” he declared.

“That’s too much of a trick for me,” Biff said, laughing. “Even if you do think I’m magic.”

Crunch released his grasp. Biff sat down, rubbing his arm where the giant had grabbed it.

“Do you like Dietz, Crunch? Do you like working for him?”

Crunch frowned. He looked like a big, bad boy forced to do something he didn’t want to do.

“I’d say you don’t,” Biff went on. “I can’t believe a man like you would work for a bad man like Dietz if you didn’t have to.”

“Have to,” Crunch said. His hand flew to his mouth, as if he were trying to force back the words he had just spoken.

“I thought so, Crunch,” Biff said. He was winning this man over. Biff felt a definite sympathy for Crunch. “Why do you work for him?”

Crunch was silent for a minute. When he finally spoke, there was a surprising bitterness in his voice.

“Crunch have brother. Little brother. He do bad thing one time. Have to leave Curaçao. He go to Martinique. Lots of Carib Indians still in Martinique.”

Crunch stopped speaking. This was the longest statement he had made. It seemed to pain him to talk so much.

“Go on, Crunch,” Biff said gently.

“In Martinique, brother work for boss Dietz. He tell boss Dietz what he do. He hope to come back to Curaçao. Boss Dietz say he help.” Crunch paused again.

“And he didn’t?”

“No. He come to Crunch. Say if Crunch don’t work for him, do everything he say, he tell police. If police catch little brother, him go way to jailhouse for long time.”

“So that’s why you work for Dietz?”

Crunch nodded his head.

“Crunch go back to house now. You stay here. No use magic to get out of jail.”

“I promise, Crunch,” Biff said. “I promise not to use magic.”

Biff felt so sorry for the giant at that moment, he wouldn’t have walked out on him had Crunch left the door wide open.

Crunch didn’t, however. He made sure the door was locked.

In Martinique, Charlie Keene and Derek were coming out of the Fisheries Commissioner’s office. They had the papers. The working permit had been signed, and it was now tucked in Derek’s inside coat pocket.

“I never heard so many questions, Mr. Keene,” Derek said. “That man asked the same ones over and over again.”

“He was stalling, Derek. He didn’t want to give us that permit,” Biff’s uncle said.

“Why?”

“I don’t trust that clerk. I have a feeling he may be dealing with Dietz. Just how, I haven’t figured out yet. But I’ll bet Dietz promised to cut him in if he could hold up giving us the papers.”

“Well, he did give them to us,” Derek remarked.

“After a struggle. Come on, Derek, let’s get back to the plane and hop over to La Trinité.”

“That’s where my father had his headquarters, isn’t it?”

“Yes. That’s where I last saw him, and that was the postmark on the letters and the packaged pearls he sent us.”

Charlie and Derek took a battered taxi driven by a barefoot native back to the airport. The water basin where Charlie’s plane was tied up to a long ramp adjoined the airport.

They got there just about noon. They saw a commercial plane come in for a landing.

“That’s the plane from Curaçao, Derek.”

They watched the plane taxi in. They had to pass right by it on the way to the seaplane. The door of the plane opened as they went by. Passengers began deplaning. Derek looked back at them. He grabbed Biff’s uncle by the arm. Charles Keene swung around in time to see Dietz and Specks come down the unloading stairs.

“Come on, don’t let them see us.” Keene took Derek by the arm and hustled him away.

“This calls for a change in plans,” Biff’s uncle said. “Something must have gone wrong. I’m really worried about Biff now. I’ll fly you over to La Trinité, then get back to Curaçao. You’d better lie low. Dietz will be heading for La Trinité as soon as he learns we’ve beat him to the punch again.”

“When will you come back?” Derek asked.

“As soon as I can. As soon as I can free Biff. Don’t let Dietz get his hands on you while I’m gone.”

“I won’t,” Derek declared. “I’m going to spend the time, until you and Biff return, looking for my father.”

Charles Keene was winging his way back to Curaçao. Derek Zook was in La Trinité across the Island of Martinique from Fort-de-France. Biff Brewster was still a prisoner in the cellhouse outside Willemstad. Herman Dietz and Specks Cade were at the Fisheries Commission Office in Fort-de-France, giving a cowering clerk a very hard time.

A tall, gaunt man, his body wasted away by a long siege of fever, lay on a narrow cot in a monastery high in the Pitons du Carbet.

The time was approaching when all these people would be drawn closer and closer together, the magnet attracting them being a small but rich pearl fishery in the Baie du Trésor.

When Charlie dropped Derek off at La Trinité, he had had one suggestion as to where the Dutch lad could best start his search for his father.

“The post office, Derek,” Charles Keene had said. “That would be your best bet. Your letter and mine both bore the La Trinité postmark. See what you can find out there.”

Derek was now following Charles Keene’s advice.

“A tall man, you say. Very fair with light-brown hair?” the postal clerk asked.

“Yes. My father,” Derek said. “I know he was here about three months ago, perhaps a little longer than that.”

The postal clerk thought for a moment. “There was such a man as you describe. I recall him. His appearance was in such contrast to the rest of us here in Trinité. But I have not seen him for months.”

“I know. I haven’t heard from him either. I am desperately anxious for any hint as to where he might have gone.”

“Zook. That was his name, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, yes,” Derek replied eagerly.

“Again, the name I remember because it is so different from the names of the people who live here. Yes, many of us knew about this man. He was searching the waters of our treasure bay.”

“That was my father, all right.”

“It was rumored that he searched for pearls,” the clerk went on. “The people of this village had great interest in his activities.”

“Would there be any one person who might have known him well?”

“When he was not out searching the ocean floor, he stayed at a smallpensionnot far from here. You could inquire there.”

“Where is the place?”

“It is called by the name of Pension Sans Souci. You will have no trouble in finding it. It is on this very street. When you go out, turn to your right. A walk of two blocks will bring you there.”

“Merci.Thank you very much,” Derek said.

His hopes were high as he walked down the street under a blazing tropical sun. But these high hopes were short lived. At the Sans Souci, the boardinghouse whose English name would be “Without Care,” Derek learned little more.

“I am so sorry, young man, that I cannot give you news of your father,” the manager of the small boardinghouse told Derek. “We were very fond of him.”

“He left no word as to where he was going?”

“No. We didn’t even know he had left us. One morning, quite early, he came to our modest establishment. I thought he seemed quite distraught. He was not his usual cheerful self. He had hardly a word with me. And it was his custom to chat with others here. He went to his room. To rest, I supposed. I went to awaken him for the noon meal. His room was empty.”

“And that is all you can tell me?”

“As much as I regret it, that is all I know. There have been rumors—”

“What? What are they?” Derek wanted any information that might be a clue to his father’s whereabouts.

“It was reported, shortly after your father left us, that such a man of his appearance had been seen in the foothills of the Carbet Mountains. But these tales were discounted. It would be highly unlikely that your father would explore the mountains. His interest was in the ocean and what might be on the bottom of the sea. I am sorry, young man.”

Derek left the Sans Souci very disheartened. If the rumors were true, why would his father have gone into the interior of the island? And if he had gone there, why had he stayed so long?

“I’m going to find out,” Derek said to himself determinedly. “Every chance I get, I’ll go into those foothills and peaks. I’ll find him.”

* * * * * * * *

In Fort-de-France, Herman Dietz could hardly contain his anger. Specks had never seen the boss so furious.

“But it could not have been,” Dietz said angrily. He and Specks were in the Fisheries Commission Office. The clerk they were talking to cringed at Dietz’s words.

“You’re a fool!” Dietz raged. “I tell you Derek Zookcouldn’thave signed for those papers. Derek Zook is in Curaçao. Right this minute.”

The clerk could only shake his head.

“You remember what I promised you?” Dietz continued. “I told you you would share in the proceeds of the pearl fishery. There was little you had to do. Only hold up those rights until I could act.”

“I tried, Mr. Dietz. I delayed as long as I could. Keene and the boy were here over two hours. I expected you here to lodge a protest. But when you failed to appear, I had to issue the permit.”

“Well, I’m going to lodge a protest now. With the Commissioner himself. I’ll tell him how badly you botched your job! How you permitted an impostor to fool you.”

Dietz stormed out of the office, followed by Specks, and made for the office of the Commissioner.

* * * * * * * *

“Another day is coming to an end, Crunch,” Biff said to the giant Carib. “And I’m getting hungry. How about my moving that alarm clock up half an hour?”

“Crunch hungry, too. Here.” Crunch handed Biff the alarm clock. Biff moved the alarm, setting it back from six-thirty to six.

“There, we’ll have dinner half an hour earlier.”

During the long day, Biff had made great progress in gaining Crunch’s confidence and friendship. He had drawn the simple-minded giant out about his brother. The crime the brother had committed was a petty crime, a small theft. Biff felt almost certain that the police had long since wiped the charge from the books. Even if they hadn’t, the theft had taken place so long ago that Biff thought the statute of limitations would have erased the charge.

Dietz, of course, had blown up the seriousness of the theft into a major crime. He had put a real fear into Crunch and his brother.

The brother had paid a high price for his deed. Forced to hide out on Martinique, he had been separated from his wife and children for years.

“Little brother very much want to come back to Curaçao. Want to see family.”

“Too bad, Crunch,” Biff sympathized. “I can imagine how he feels. Does he write? How do you hear from him.”

“No write letters. Can’t write. Friends tell about him. Friends who come to Curaçao from island.”

“From Martinique?”

“That’s right. From Martinique Island many, many boat days away.”

“You know, Crunch, I wouldn’t be surprised if I could help your brother come back to Curaçao. He might have to go to jail. But only for a short time. I don’t know about that. If he did commit that crime, he’d have to pay for it. But wouldn’t it be better if he faced the charge? His sentence would be light. At the end, he would be free.”

Crunch leaned forward to Biff. Big and powerful as the man was, he had the feelings of a small child. Biff could see tears in his eyes.

“You do that, Crunch your friend!”

“I can’t promise, Crunch. But I do know that Dietz has been using you. Misusing is a better word.”

Biff wasn’t sure Crunch understood. He couldn’t be sure. But he felt that he was getting to the giant Indian. At first, it had been Biff’s plan to gain Crunch’s confidence, outwit him, and escape. He still wanted to escape, but by now, he felt a great sympathy for the simple, friendly man. He really wanted to help him.

The alarm bell went off. Crunch stood up.

“No magic. You still be here when Crunch come back?”

“I’ll be here, Crunch,” Biff replied.

Crunch went out, still careful to lock the door behind him. There could be no doubt that his liking for Biff was growing, but fear of Dietz still guided the Indian’s actions.

Crunch had been gone about five minutes. Biff stretched out on the cot and turned on his left side. “Ouch,” he said as the pen clipped to his shirt pocket dug into him. He changed the pen to his hip pocket and settled, face down, relaxed. Suddenly he sat up again, took out the pen, and stared at it thoughtfully....

Minutes later, Biff was startled by a call, a call from a voice that was good news to Biff.

“Biff! Biff! Where are you? Sing out so I can come to you.”

“Here, Uncle Charlie! I’m here! In this house. It’s the one farthest from the big house.”

“I’m on my way, Biff!”

Biff leaped to the door. He stood there, hands grasping the bars, straining his eyes to spot his uncle.

He saw him coming at a run.

“Hi, Uncle Charlie!” Biff called. “I knew you’d be back for me!” He could see the big grin on Charlie’s face as he drew nearer.

Biff’s smile of happiness changed to one of dismay. His uncle was only a few feet away. From behind a clump of bushes, Crunch appeared. He leaped out as Charlie passed. His huge arms wrapped around Keene.

“Look out!” Biff cried. It was too late.

Charles Keene, a powerful man himself, was helpless in the giant Indian’s grasp.

Biff watched his uncle struggle to break free of the Indian’s crushing grasp. He saw the tendons in his uncle’s neck grow taut and stand out as Charlie Keene heaved his shoulders with every bit of his strength.

It was as if his uncle were trying to break loose from iron bands.

“Crunch! Crunch,” Biff shouted. “Let him go! Let him go!”

The Indian only shook his head.

Biff strained at the iron bars, furious that he was unable to go to his uncle’s aid.

“I’m your friend, Crunch! So is that man. He’s my uncle. Let him go!”

Crunch ignored Biff. Charlie’s face was turning red. The powerful Crunch was actually trying to crush his smaller opponent. Biff knew he had to do something and do it fast. But what?

Biff realized that if he were to keep his uncle from having some ribs cracked, it would have to be brains against brawn. Maybe Biff could play on the Indian’s superstition.

“Crunch!” he shouted again. “If you don’t let him go, I’ll make more magic—bad magic.”

At first the words had no effect on Crunch. But after a few moments, Biff’s threat seemed to sink in. Crunch released some of his pressure, but still held Charlie Keene firmly.

“If you don’t let him go, I’ll make the magic that takes me out of this house,” Biff threatened.

Crunch was listening now.

“I’ll disappear, Crunch. Watch.”

Biff moved away from the doorway. He went to the window to the right of the door. He stayed below the opening so Crunch couldn’t see him.

“Where am I, Crunch?” Biff called out. “You think I’m at this window, don’t you? You hear my voice at this window. But I’m not here. Only my voice is. My body is at the other window.”

Biff leaped across the small room at his last word and sprang into view at the window to the left of the door. As he looked out, Crunch was still watching the other window.

Biff banged the bars of the window, being careful not to speak. Crunch swung his head around. The sight of Biff startled him. Biff ducked down. He cupped his hands and held them to his mouth. Turning his head in the direction of the other window, he called in a low voice:

“But my voice is still where you first heard it!”

Biff raised his head slowly. The simple trick was working. Crunch had turned to the other window.

“Now my voice and body are back together again, Crunch!”

The startled expression on Crunch’s face showed the giant Indian’s confusion. He was becoming frightened.

“If I only had a clincher,” Biff thought. “Something that would really impress Crunch.” Biff’s eyes lit on the alarm clock. An idea popped into his head.

Uncaptioned

“I’m going to disappear, Crunch,” he called. “But I’ll return. And if I return, you will have to release that man.”

Biff ducked down. He grabbed the alarm clock and raced into the back room, careful to keep out of sight. Biff was counting on the Indian’s actually believing he had disappeared to get enough time to put his new idea into effect.

Quickly Biff reset the alarm. He set it to go off in three minutes. He put the alarm lever at “ON.” Then he went to a side window and tossed the alarm clock out. He saw it land in the soft sand, and prayed the fall hadn’t damaged the clock.

Biff hurried back to the front room. He got down on his hands and knees and crawled to the door. It was a huge door. The bottom half was of heavy, thick timbers. The upper half was open with five-inch-thick iron bars. Slowly Biff raised his head until it was just above the solid half of the door. From the outside his head looked as if it were detached from his body.

“Crunch,” Biff said the name softly. Crunch, fright showing in his eyes, looked from one window to the other.

“Crunch,” Biff called softly again. “I’m down here now. My head is.”

Crunch looked at the door. His eyes widened, showing white. Crunch was becoming terrified.

“I give you a minute, Crunch. Just one minute. Then, if you don’t release my uncle, evil spirits will surround you and this house. They will ring bells....”

“I hope, I hope,” Biff said to himself. Crunch still held on to Charles Keene. But his grip was nowhere near as strong as it had been.

Biff waited. In his anxiety, his palms were sweating.

“Crunch,” Biff said again. “I’ve warned you. Let him go.”

At these words, the alarm clock went off.

“EEEEiiiipe!” Crunch yelled. He let go of Charlie, turned, and fled.

Charlie Keene shook himself. He pressed his ribs with his hands.

“No bones broken. But wow! Is that guy ever strong! He could have crushed me, Biff. That was sure quick thinking on your part.”

Charlie walked over to the door. “If I’d known how powerful that man is,” he added, “I never would have let you get yourself captured.”

Biff smiled. “Crunch isn’t as bad as he seems, Uncle Charlie. He’s really a very gentle man.”

“Gentle! You’ve never been given a Crunch bear hug!”

“I mean he’s a simple soul. He’s superstitious. He really thinks I can magic myself out of this place. He thinks that’s how Derek got out the first time. He doesn’t know, of course, that it was I, not Derek, he saw outside.”

“And speaking of getting outside, just how are we going to get you out of this place?” Uncle Charlie demanded.

“Crunch has the key,” Biff said.

“And you’ve scared him so badly he’ll never come back. Let me take a look at this lock.”

Charlie examined the lock carefully.

“It’s no good, Biff. It’s too strong to force. I can’t open this lock. You’re just going to have to magic your way out.”

“Or get Crunch to come back and let me out.”

“Think you can, Biff? I doubt it.”

“I can try,” Biff replied. “Crunch and I were getting to be good friends. He’s not a bad guy. Dietz has a hold on him and forces him to do this dirty work. I’m going to call him.... Crunch!” Biff sang out.

No answer.

“Crunch! Can you hear me? If you can, listen carefully. I’ve sent the evil spirits away. They won’t harm you. They have stopped their noises.” The alarm clock had run down.

“I’m still locked in, Crunch. I promised you I wouldn’t use my magic to get out. I’ve kept my promise. Come back and see.”

“If this works, Biff,” Uncle Charlie said in a low voice, “then you’ve really got that giant under your thumb.”

Biff and his uncle waited. No sign of Crunch. No sound.

“It’ll be night soon, Biff. He’ll never come back in the dark.”

“I know that. I’m going to try again. Crunch! Night is coming on. My magic works better in the dark. If you don’t come back before it’s dark, then I’ll have to break my promise and magic my way out.”

“That ought to do it if anything will, Biff,” Charlie said.

They waited. Both looked toward the east. Already the horizon was beginning to darken. Minutes passed. It would be totally dark in another minute.

“Crunch come back.” The deep voice came from the shadows.

Charlie Keene swung around. Ten feet away, at the edge of the sand apron extending from the undergrowth to the house, stood Crunch.

“Let me do the talking, Uncle Charlie,” Biff said in a low voice.

“You bet I will, Biff. You know how to handle that giant.”

“Come here, Crunch,” Biff said gently.

The Indian approached cautiously. His head pivoted from one direction to the other. Crunch was looking for the evil spirits.

“I have kept my promise, Crunch. I have not made the magic that would take me out of here.”

Crunch didn’t speak.

“I want you to let this man in here with me. I want to show you that we are your friends.”

Crunch was at the door. His hand pulled out the large key to the lock.

“Uncle Charlie, Crunch is going to let you come in with me. Then he will go back to the house for food for all of us—”

“But, Biff,” Charlie protested, “if I get locked in there with you—”

“It will be all right, Uncle Charlie. Crunch is our friend. We are his friends. Please, let me handle this my way.”

Charlie Keene shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, Biff.”

Crunch turned the key in the lock. He swung the door open. Charlie Keene entered, and Crunch closed and locked the door. Without another word, he disappeared in the darkness on the way to the big house.

“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.”

Charlie Keene chuckled. “I take it all back, Biff. There’s nothing soft about that head of yours. Now, let’s get out of here! But fast!”

“Why, Uncle Charlie? We can get out any time we want to. Why don’t we both spend the night here? I’d like to gain Crunch’s confidence completely. He could be a big help to us on Martinique. It’s good to have a friend in the enemy’s camp.”

“Yes, Biff. I think you’ve really got something going. We couldn’t get back to Martinique tonight, anyway.”

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