“Jeepers! Do you know it’s been two hours since we left the hotel! Seems like only minutes.”

Tom Brewster and Hank Mahenili were still up when the boys reached home.

“Well, we were beginning to wonder what had happened to you two,” Tom Brewster said.

“Plenty, Dad,” Biff said, smiling.

“It looks like it.” His father was looking at Biff’s rumpled white jacket. One shoulder of it bore a smudge where he had landed on the green carpet of Dr. Weber’s room.

“We had a little adventure,” Biff said. “More than we expected.”

“You’re all right, Li?” Hank Mahenili asked, a worried look on his face.

“Sure, Dad. It was Biff who had the fight.”

“Fight?” Tom Brewster stood up. “Just what happened, son?”

Biff gave his father and Hank Mahenili a fast fill-in on the night’s adventure.

“But we got what we were looking for,” he concluded. Biff reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out Dr. Weber’s tobacco pouch. He took out the crumpled letter.

“This has a New Zealand postmark on it. I think it’s that letter you talked to Dr. Weber about when he called you back in Indianapolis. I haven’t read it, though. Thought you might not want me to know what’s in it.”

Thomas Brewster took the letter. He read it rapidly, then reread it. His frown showed how deep his concentration was. Without a word, he handed the letter to Mahenili. The Hawaiian read it.

The two boys watched their parents. Finally Biff spoke.

“Is it important, Dad? I thought it might be.”

“Very important, Biff. Wouldn’t you say so, Hank?”

“Unbelievably so.”

Biff looked questioningly at his father.

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