Biff strained at the iron bars, furious that he was unable to go to his uncle’s aid.
“I’m your friend, Crunch! So is that man. He’s my uncle. Let him go!”
Crunch ignored Biff. Charlie’s face was turning red. The powerful Crunch was actually trying to crush his smaller opponent. Biff knew he had to do something and do it fast. But what?
Biff realized that if he were to keep his uncle from having some ribs cracked, it would have to be brains against brawn. Maybe Biff could play on the Indian’s superstition.
“Crunch!” he shouted again. “If you don’t let him go, I’ll make more magic—bad magic.”
At first the words had no effect on Crunch. But after a few moments, Biff’s threat seemed to sink in. Crunch released some of his pressure, but still held Charlie Keene firmly.
“If you don’t let him go, I’ll make the magic that takes me out of this house,” Biff threatened.
Crunch was listening now.
“I’ll disappear, Crunch. Watch.”
Biff moved away from the doorway. He went to the window to the right of the door. He stayed below the opening so Crunch couldn’t see him.