join him.”

Mr. Brewster halted the car at an intersection and pondered for a few moments. Then he said:

“Somebody could have snooped around that boathouse after Whitman left. They might have learned where the shipments came from and perhaps gained some link between Whitman and myself. If we go out there, we might pick up some clue ourselves. It’s worth a try.”

Mr. Brewster headed for the outskirts of the city. The road became rougher, and he was handling the jeep in its best puddle-jumping style as he added:

“Maybe some spies are still around the boathouse, trying to learn what else they can. In that case, we can surprise them. If the boathouse is empty, we can wait inside it and see if anyone shows up later.”

As the jeep swung beneath an arch of trees, Biff was startled by what looked like human figures jumping from bough to bough in the glow of the moonlight. Mr. Brewster laughed.

“Just monkeys. Don’t let them worry you. There is the boathouse. You can see our headlights reflected in its windows.”

Mr. Brewster cut off the headlights as he spoke, but oddly, the reflection persisted for a few moments more. Biff thought it was his imagination, but his father decided otherwise.

“Someone is moving around inside with a flashlight,” he whispered. “The boathouse is on pontoons to allow for the rise and fall of the river. If we reach the gangplank first, we can trap them before they come ashore.”

Silently Biff and his father slipped out of the jeep and crept forward beneath overhanging boughs that Biff could hear creak above him.

This time, he was thinking about people in the boathouse, not monkeys in the trees. He was watching for a flashlight instead of looking up into the moonlight. That proved to be a bad mistake.

Two living human figures dropped from the branches like massive rubber balls, one taking Biff as a target, the other landing squarely on Mr. Brewster. In their hands, these silent, shadowy attackers carried thin ropes that they looped around the necks of their victims as they flattened them.

Biff heard his father give a short, gurgling cry. Then Biff was gasping as the cord tightened around his own neck. Next, his captor clapped a cloth to his face, and Biff was stifled by a strong, 

 Prev. P 15/104 next