could, Biff, but I don’t think I will—not yet. The fewer people who know what Huntington discovered, the better. And it would be safer for you, too, not to know.” “You mean, Dad....” Biff paused. “Yes, Biff, you’re in this now right up to your young neck. It could easily be figured that you now know as much as Dr. Weber, since you found the letter. That makes you a target, too.” Biff found it difficult to swallow the lump which had suddenly come into his throat. CHAPTER VIII The Police Call CHAPTER VIII “Did you get a good look at your attacker, Biff?” Tom Brewster asked his son. “Gee, Dad. He came at me too fast. And it was fairly dark in the room.” “I was wondering. Perez Soto—you know, the man I pointed out to you at the dinner—well, he wasn’t at the reception afterward. I thought he might have followed you boys.” “I don’t think so, Dad. Perez Soto is a good-sized man. Husky. This fellow I had the hassle with was smaller, I think.” “And that Mr. Perez Soto,” Li added, “he was wearing a white dinner jacket. This man wasn’t.” “He could have changed, son,” Hank Mahenili pointed out. “Li’s right, though,” Biff said. “I think we both will agree that it wasn’t Perez Soto.” “All right, boys. Better get to bed. It’s late, and tomorrow’s going to be a big day.” It was a big day, and it ended with a bang. The engineering conference had wound up the night before with the dinner at which Biff’s father spoke. This day, the day following, Hanale Mahenili had invited a selected group from among those who had attended the conference to a luau at his house. The prospect of going to the luau, the traditional Hawaiian feast, especially one cooked by a native of the island, was exciting. Hank Mahenili had been up early to get things under way. He was going to supervise the cooking of the luau personally. It took all day to prepare a luau properly, and when Hank Mahenili did something, he did it right. Biff