“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
“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.”