CHAPTER XIV

A Talk with Crunch

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 9 A.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.”