Biff ducked down. He grabbed the alarm clock and raced into the back room, careful to keep out of sight. Biff was counting on the Indian’s actually believing he had disappeared to get enough time to put his new idea into effect.
Quickly Biff reset the alarm. He set it to go off in three minutes. He put the alarm lever at “ON.” Then he went to a side window and tossed the alarm clock out. He saw it land in the soft sand, and prayed the fall hadn’t damaged the clock.
Biff hurried back to the front room. He got down on his hands and knees and crawled to the door. It was a huge door. The bottom half was of heavy, thick timbers. The upper half was open with five-inch-thick iron bars. Slowly Biff raised his head until it was just above the solid half of the door. From the outside his head looked as if it were detached from his body.
“Crunch,” Biff said the name softly. Crunch, fright showing in his eyes, looked from one window to the other.
“Crunch,” Biff called softly again. “I’m down here now. My head is.”
Crunch looked at the door. His eyes widened, showing white. Crunch was becoming terrified.
“I give you a minute, Crunch. Just one minute. Then, if you don’t release my uncle, evil spirits will surround you and this house. They will ring bells....”
“I hope, I hope,” Biff said to himself. Crunch still held on to Charles Keene. But his grip was nowhere near as strong as it had been.
Biff waited. In his anxiety, his palms were sweating.
“Crunch,” Biff said again. “I’ve warned you. Let him go.”