“Now, young man, you’ll find out just what a fool you were not to stay away from here once you had made your escape,” Dietz declared.
The tide was running against Biff. There was a look of triumph on Dietz’s evil face.
“I came here with a fair proposition for you,” Biff said.
“Fair? Never heard the word,” Dietz replied, his voice scornful. “You’ve walked and talked yourself right into being my prisoner again. And this time, Crunch will make sure you don’t escape.”
Biff looked at the powerful Crunch. There was a big, silly smile on his face. He clenched and unclenched his hands, as if he could hardly wait to get Biff in his grip.
“You young fool,” Dietz said. “Don’t you know you and Keene can’t get the working permit to that fishery unless you sign for it?”
“But neither can you.”
“Ha! That’s what you think. It so happens, you stupid boy, that I have a friend in the Fisheries Commission on Martinique. You and Keene may have stopped me once. But you won’t again. Crunch, take him away. And this time, if you let him escape—” Dietz drew the edge of his hand across his throat “—that’s what you’ll get.”
Crunch crossed to Biff’s chair. He seized Biff by one arm and lifted him out of the chair as if he weighed no more than a rag doll.
Biff knew it would be foolish to resist. His plan had backfired.