“The time has come,” he said to himself, “for me to make my departure from this charming hostelry.” He walked unhurriedly toward the stairs. Once there, though, he dashed down them, taking three steps at a time. In moments, he was concealed behind a spreading poinciana shrub.

Biff stood silently. He strained his ears for any sound, the sound of either Li or his attacker. Only the soft rustling of palm fronds came to his ears. He decided to move out. Taking great care to remain in the cover of trees and shrubs—the moonlight was brilliant—Biff moved cautiously through the garden. He decided against returning the same way he and Li had come. He felt sure that his attacker had followed them from the hotel where his father had spoken. The man might figure the boys would return to the hotel. He’d be waiting for them there, Biff reasoned.

“Sure hope Li figures it the way I have,” Biff told himself.

Biff walked in the opposite direction. He came to the edge of the garden. The street was only a few feet away. A few feet, but those few feet were open space, no cover, unprotected from the view of others.

“I’ll just have to chance it,” Biff said softly. He planned to dash across the opening, run down the street, and hope to find a cruising taxicab.

Biff tensed. He thought he heard a noise behind him. It sounded like a small twig snapping. He turned his head slowly. He didn’t want a second attack from behind that night. Now he felt positive that someone was moving in the shrubbery nearby.

Then he heard it, softly, barely audible above the noise of the rustling leaves and nearby surf.

“Biff!”

Biff let out his held breath in a deep sigh of relief.

“Right here, Li,” he called.

His Hawaiian friend emerged from behind a tree and joined him.

“You all right, Biff? You hurt?” Li asked anxiously.

“Me? No. Not even shaken up. But how about you? And the tobacco pouch. You’ve still got it?”

Li nodded his head, extending a hand with the pouch in it.

 Prev. P 24/99 next