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Mystery of the Caribbean Pearls

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<h2>CHAPTER XVII Reunited</h2> Biff and his uncle heard Crunch approaching. “I want to see this,” Charlie said. He walked over to the window. Biff was right beside him. Crunch stood in the sand, staring at the open door. It took several moments for the Indian to get over his amazement. He put down the food he was carrying and moved about in a shuffle, trying to make up his mind what he should do next. The giant turned suddenly and started off at a lope, intending to search the grounds for Biff and his uncle. “We’re still here, Crunch,” Biff called out. “We haven’t escaped.” Crunch stopped. He came back to the cellhouse slowly. Standing in the doorway, his jaw sagged open. Disbelief showed in his eyes. “No go away? No escape?” He was completely bewildered. “No, Crunch. I told you we wouldn’t.” “How you get door open?” Biff only smiled in reply, looking very wise and mysterious. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_113">113</div> “Magic! You make more magic!” When Biff still didn’t say anything, Crunch went back outside and got the food. When he came in, he placed the food on the table, then carefully locked the door. After he had done so, he looked at the key, and a foolish expression came over his face, as if he were asking himself, “Why do I lock the door?” Crunch still wore a puzzled look on his face as he sat quietly and watched Biff and Uncle Charlie eat the meal he had prepared for them. It was a fish dish with a delicious but very hot sauce. The sauce burned the eaters’ mouths, making the cool, smooth avocado salad that went with it highly welcome. “That was mighty good, Crunch,” Biff said. “Sure was,” Uncle Charlie chimed in. He took a sip of lime drink and spoke to Biff. “We’d better turn in early. We’ll want to get an early start for Martinique. Going to take Crunch with us?” “How about it, Crunch?” Biff asked. “Would you like to go to Martinique? You could see your brother. Maybe my uncle and I could help him.” “Crunch have to stay here. Wait for boss Dietz.” “Mr. Dietz is in Martinique, Crunch. He might need you over there,” Biff said. It was going to take some time for Crunch to figure this one out. He was still afraid of Dietz. “Think it over, Crunch, and tell us in the morning,” Biff said. When dawn broke, and Uncle Charlie shook his sleep-drugged nephew into wakefulness, both knew that they had won Crunch completely over. He had already gone to the main house for food. And he had left the door wide open! <div class="pagenum" id="Page_114">114</div> “Made up your mind yet, Crunch?” Biff asked the Carib Indian after they had finished breakfast. “You coming with us?” Crunch was silent, still torn between his fear of Dietz and his admiration for Biff. “We’re going now,” Biff told him. Biff and his uncle went to the door. The Indian made no move to prevent their leaving. “Good-by, Crunch,” Biff called. Crunch stood in the doorway and watched them leave. At the arched gateway, Biff and his uncle climbed into the car. Charlie started it up. They were just beginning to roll when they heard a shout. Looking back, Biff saw Crunch coming on the run. “Wait! Wait! Crunch come with you.” A completely new life was opening up for Crunch. He had never been off the island of Curaçao. He had never been in an aircraft. For the first half of the flight to Martinique, he sat rigidly in his seat, hands grasping the seat arms as if he were holding the plane in the air. “We’ll stop at Fort-de-France first, Biff,” Uncle Charlie said. “Got to pick up some diving equipment and other supplies. Then we’ll hop on over to La Trinité.” Flying low over the waters of the Caribbean, as his uncle came in for a landing in the harbor, Biff spotted a large net bobbing in a sweeping arc between two native boats. The fishermen doffed their broad straw hats and waved at the plane. Directly over the seine, Biff could see thousands of fish leaping, swirling, their silver sides glittering in the sunlight. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_115">115</div> Walking through the teeming streets of the city was an experience in itself. Fort-de-France with its 66,000 residents is crowded between two rivers gallantly named Rivière Madame and Rivière Monsieur. To Biff, it seemed as if every resident of the town swarmed in the narrow street down which the three walked that morning. “Look at that!” Biff said in amazement. A small native woman walked briskly among the crowd. A sixty-pound basket of fruit and vegetables was balanced on her head. “Biff, these people are small, but they’re powerful. And they have a magnificent sense of balance,” Uncle Charlie said. In the basket which the woman wore like a headpiece were bright red tomatoes, a green pebble-skinned breadfruit, and some fat pineapples. Under one arm she carried a full stalk of bananas. The capital of Martinique was a blaze of color, from the women’s costumes to the buildings and the flowers growing riotously in every garden and patio. Beautiful bougainvillea, brilliantly colored from rich, deep purple and red to pale lavender and violet, spilled over balconies like cascading waterfalls. Uncle Charlie led Biff and Crunch to a small hardware store. There was hardly an inch of open space in the store. A heavy bathtub hung over the entrance. Garden hose, bicycles, pots, pans, fishing and skin-diving equipment crowded shelves and hung from rafters. “How can anyone find anything in here?” Biff asked. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_116">116</div> “A mystery to me, too, Biff,” Uncle Charlie laughed. “But the clerks can put their hands on any item you ask for in a second. They’re really out to serve you.” Biff was given an example of this as his uncle made his purchases. In no time at all, Biff and Crunch were laden with marking buoys, two Scubas—self-contained, underwater-breathing apparatus—and Uncle Charlie brought up the rear with a gay red-and-white nylon tent. “This is all we need here,” he said. “We’ll get the rest of the stuff we need—pots and pans and so on—in Trinité.” Making their way back to the aircraft, Biff envied the natives their ability to carry tremendous loads with no apparent effort. The hop across the island to La Trinité was a short one. The plane was secured to a mooring and gear unloaded. “Well, Crunch, what are you going to do?” Uncle Charlie asked. “Find my little brother first,” Crunch replied. “And what about Dietz?” Biff asked. “Maybe find him, too. Where Crunch find you?” “We’re going to make our headquarters here just down the street. At the Sans Souci. We’ll show you,” Charlie Keene said, “and if you want to find us, or get in touch, ask there.” “What about Derek?” Biff asked. “We’ve got to locate him.” “Don’t worry, Biff. In a town this size everybody knows everything that’s going on. I’ll bet you right now the grapevine has spread word of our arrival. If Derek is around, he’ll be looking us up within an hour.” <div class="pagenum" id="Page_117">117</div> Charles Keene was right. He and Biff checked into the Sans Souci. Crunch went off. “A little more shopping, Biff, and we’re ready to take off as soon as Derek locates us, or vice versa,” Biff’s uncle said. Derek caught up with Biff and Uncle Charlie in midafternoon. The Dutch boy was delighted to rejoin his friends. “This is really fine!” he exclaimed. “So good, Biff, to be back with you and your uncle.” “That goes double for me, Derek. Any news of your father?” Derek’s face fell. “No. I’ve heard some rumors about him, but so far, I’ve learned nothing definite as to where he might be. The island grapevine of news seems to break down just as I think I have a real clue.” “Too bad, Derek,” Charlie said. “But don’t give up hope. We’re all together now. Biff and I want to help you search for your father. It’s important to me to find him, too. After all, I’m working for him.” “Are you working for me now, too?” Derek asked with a mischievous smile. “Sure thing, Derek,” Uncle Charlie agreed. “When your father’s not here, you’re the boss.” “We’ll work well together. How about it, Biff?” Biff grinned. “Couldn’t find a better combination.” “And I don’t think we have to worry too much about Dietz now,” Charles Keene added. That’s where Uncle Charlie was wrong. <div class="pagenum" id="Page_118">118</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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