“I’m beginning to catch on, Dad,” Biff said soberly.
“I expected you would.”
“We’d have to use the engine, as you said. And right in the midst of those reefs, and those sharks, bang! The boat would have blown up—”
“And that would have been the end of us,” Thomas Brewster said quietly. He tossed the deactivated bomb overboard.
“Rest in pieces,” Biff said fervently.
CHAPTER XIII
A Near Miss
“Everything all clear?” Mr. Brewster called out from his position at the tiller in the yawl, Easy Action.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Biff called back to his father. Biff held on to the bow line, loosely circled over a piling at the dock.
“Cast off, then,” Tom Brewster ordered.
Biff flicked the rope, snaking it over the piling, as the Easy Action was cleared. Biff heard the low growl of the reverse gear as his father backed easily away from the wharf. A shift to forward, the engine revved up higher, and the yawl headed out of the harbor at Hana.