“Have a good swim, Chuba,” Biff shouted gaily. “I’ll wait for you.” Biff reset the oars and leaned them on his knees. “Hey, chum, not so much splash—” Biff’s happy call faded out. Chuba was floundering in the water. His arms stopped thrashing and his head went out of sight. Then it bobbed into view, only to sink a second time.
With a start, Biff realized that Chuba couldn’t swim.
CHAPTER XIII
The First Clue
Jack Hudson looked up from his desk as Muscles, the powerful mechanic, came in. For a few moments the two men stared at one another, saying nothing. Muscles, hands on hips, broad shoulders squared, chest thrust out, looked like an angry bull about to charge.
“Okay, Muscles, let’s have it,” Jack said.
“About those kids. What are we going to do?”
“I wish I knew. We’ve got to do something.”
“You’re darn tootin’ we have,” Muscles bellowed. “I’m sick and tired of just sitting around here, waiting. We got to act.”
“Take it easy, Muscles. I’ve been thinking about it as much as you have.”