Weston broke free of the ear grip while Uncle Andy held the other men at bay. As Scarface turned on Weston, the latter swung at him ponderously. Scarface ducked and gave him a swift jab into the stomach. As Weston doubled, he received a two-fisted uppercut, and as he toppled he was aided on his way by a double blow across the left temple. He came down like a brick chimney and lay there in a heap.
Pee Bee stood there rubbing his head and looking down at the prostrate figure of the Polish cook.
"Get Whitey!" cried one of the construction men, pointing at the ocean. "He'll drown!"
While Uncle Andy still held them at bay, they all looked at the man in the water. Whitey was screaming and flailing wildly about, while the undertow and the incoming waves alternately dragged him outward and dashed him against the rocks.
"What's the matter?" asked Scarface, rubbing his knuckles. "Can't he swim?"
"He can swim," said the same man, "but something's got him!"
As they watched, the water darkened around Whitey.
"It's blood!" cried Valerie. "Oh my God, the poor man!"
"Look!" cried Henry. "Those are devil lizards! Hundreds of them!"