X Marks the Spot Page 7

  What we saw made us freeze.

  Israel Hands, Silver’s most trusted man, was slumped against the mast, wounded.

  Two other pirates were in an unmoving heap, if you know what I mean.

  They had been done in by a long blade.

  A blade held in none other than Hands’s own hands.

  Chapter 15

  Sidestepping the dead pirates, we went to see if we could help the wounded one.

  Israel Hands was groaning softly to himself. When he heard our steps, he raised his head.

  “So,” he growled in the same raspy voice we had heard outside the apple barrel. “You have caught me?”

  “Red-handed, Hands,” I said, kicking his sword away. “And now you have to hand over control of the ship.”

  He nodded slowly. “And so you become the new captains of the good ship Hispaniola!”

  “I guess that’s true,” said Jim, sucking in a deep breath. “We are in command here now.”

  “And to prove it,” Frankie added. “We’re going to hoist the American flag!”

  “British,” said Jim, glancing at us. “British flag.”

  “Oh, right. That’s a good flag, too,” said Frankie.

  “Plus, we like the language you invented,” I said.

  So when Jim pulled down the Jolly Roger and quickly ran up the nice happy British flag, we all cheered.

  “Well,” said the pirate, “it looks as if I lost—”

  “Hands down,” I said.

  The pirate sneered, hanging his head as if he was sorry. “I may as well help you sail the ship into the inlet so you can pick up your mates and head back to England.”

  “So, you’re going to give us a hand, Hands?” said Frankie. “Can we trust you?”

  “Pirates are double-crossers if there ever are any,” I said, squinting at the wounded man. “I don’t trust him.”

  But Jim pulled us aside. “He looks badly hurt. There doesn’t seem any way for him to fight us or to trick us.”

  “I guess you’re right,” said Frankie.

  I nodded. “I suppose he can’t do too much.”

  “All right, Hands,” said Jim. “Help us sail to the northern bay of the island. Come on, up with you!”

  Hands hobbled around the deck and did as he was told. Soon, we were sailing the giant ship into a narrow channel just below the northern tip of the island.

  I wanted to know more about what might happen, but because things were happening so fast, there wasn’t time to read the book. We just had to follow along. And that meant hauling a lot of rope and swinging booms and turning the wheel and stuff.

  Hands did his job well, but he kept watching us creepily. I just kept telling myself there was little he could do against the three of us.

  Yeah, right. Little he could do, except try to kill us!

  Here’s how it happened. He was working on steering the ship around the northern beach, when he sat down on deck. All the color drained suddenly from his face.

  “Water,” he groaned. “Give me some water—”

  We ran down to the storeroom and grabbed two cups of water. On the way up the stairs, Jim halted, then pointed. There on deck was Hands, as sprightly as ever, sliding a short cutlass into his pantleg, then plopping back to his place on the deck and looking all sick again.

  “What a fake!” I said.

  “Sneaky Pete!” said Frankie with a scowl. “Don’t pirates ever stop being sneaky?”

  Jim snorted a chuckle. “Never. But now we have the better of him. Don’t let on that we saw his cutlass.”

  We scampered back on deck, all jokey and happy, pretending we knew nothing about his hidden sword.

  He kept us on course, helping navigate the ship into the narrowest channel you ever saw. He was a good pilot after all. A good pilot, but a very bad man.

  The shores of the northern inlet were thickly wooded, and the channel twisted and weaved around.

  “We’ll land on the beach,” said Hands, pointing a quivering finger ahead of us. “When the tide comes in, it’ll be easy to free the ship. Tie up the sails now.”

  As we neared the beach of the inlet, Frankie, Jim, and I climbed high up in the rigging to tie up the sails. All of a sudden, I felt the rigging shudder. I looked down to see the so-called wounded pirate climbing the ropes, one of Hands’s hands handling that gleaming cutlass.

  “I’ll get ye all now!” he howled. “You think you have Israel Hands to kick around?”

  “That would be nice,” I said. “Can I be first?”

  “Ye won’t—ever!” the pirate shouted. Even with his bum leg, the guy could climb. He was fast on those ropes, and daring. But Jim turned out to be the braver of the two.

  “Devin, Frankie, watch out!” our friend cried. Then, clutching a loose rope, he swung across the rigging and kicked Hands to make him drop the blade.

  Hands was thrown back and slid halfway down the rigging, but he didn’t drop his sword. His laughter stopped and he redoubled his efforts to reach us.

  “I shall fire!” said Jim, pulling the two pistols from his belt and pointing them at the pirate. But when he pulled the triggers, all the pistols did was come out with this stupid clicking sound.

  “Ha-ha!” cried Hands. “Your powder’s wet!”

  “Then I shall reload,” said Jim.

  “There won’t be time for that,” Hands snarled, cutting all kinds of nice designs in the air with his blade, practicing for when he could use it on us.

  “Devin, Jim, we can’t climb any higher!” Frankie yelled as she reached the top of the rigging. “I guess the story ends here ….”

  But I couldn’t let it end. I whipped the book from my belt. “There’s only one way to stop this. Flip the pages!”

  Frankie looked at me with panicked eyes. “Devin, we could fall, we could get hurt, we could melt down!”

  “Or all of the above!” I said. “But there’s nothing else to do! Hang on, everyone. Well, everyone but Hands!”

  I held the book tight, then flipped the pages one by one. I flipped one page ahead of where we actually were in the book. Two pages. Three.

  Kkkkk! Lightning flashed, thunder boomed. The air instantly turned dark, and there was a horrible ripping sound, as a large black tear appeared in the sky above us. It was as if we were all on a page, and the page was ripping in half!

  “Devin!” yelled Frankie, trying to hold on to the ropes. “It’s happening!”

  In fact, everything happened at once.

  The sudden storm drove the ship hard onto the sand—crunnch!—just as Jim was thrown back to the ropes and his pistols fired out a double flash of blue light.

  “Devin, that’s enough!” Frankie cried.

  I snapped the book shut.

  The storm vanished, and there, below us, was Israel Hands—yelling and falling backward.

  “Ahhhh!” Hands looked at us, even as his hands groped for the rigging. They clutched only air.

  Then, like a sack of potatoes, he tumbled to the deck, struck it with a terrible thump, slid off, and splashed into the water below.

  The three of us clung to the rigging and stared at the waves sloshing below.

  Jim blinked. “In that strange storm, my pistols … went off. He’s … dead.”

  “And we’re not,” I said. “Which is a good thing. Now, come on, let’s get down from here. I don’t like heights. And I like falling from them even less!”

  Together, we scrambled down the rigging as fast as we could. We waded ashore, leaving the ship tipped on its side.

  Without much chitchat, and still shaken from our brush with death, we headed back through the jungle, hoping to find the stockade before dark. It took us all day. When night finally rolled over the island, we saw the warm glow of a campfire coming from the stockade.

  “We found it!” said Jim, heaving a big sigh of relief. “Won’t the doctor and the captain and the squire be surprised when we tell them how we rescued the ship!”

  Suddenly, Frankie s
tarted to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Jim.

  “I just had an idea,” she said. “What if we slip into the fort while everybody’s asleep and surprise them with our story in the morning. They’ll be freaked out.”

  I jumped. “A practical joke? In a book that’s got way too many dark parts? Frankie, I love it.”

  Even Jim thought it might be fun. “Let’s do it.”

  Carefully, we scampered through the dark and into the stockade. We made our way into the log house and were just about to slide into our old beds when we heard a voice.

  It was sudden and shrill and loud, and it broke the quiet.

  “Devin and Frankie! Devin and Frankie!”

  I froze where I stood. We all did.

  It was Long John Silver’s parrot. And it was perched on the shoulder of old Long John himself.

  “Arrh, arrh!” the pirate said, holding up a candle. “Well, shiver me timbers if it isn’t the children! Welcome to the stockade, my young mateys! Welcome to our pirate stockade! You are now … our prisoners!”

  “Prisoners! Prisoners!” chirped that old parrot.

  Chapter 16

  In a flash, six angry buccaneers surrounded us.

  Now, I don’t know if you have ever been captured by pirates, but this was my first time, and already I knew I wasn’t going to like it much.

  First of all, there was the threat of death. But there was also the problem of a bunch of very dirty guys crowding around us and nearly suffocating us with their stinky pirate odor.

  I mean, Jim might be turning into a hero, but Frankie and I were the last thing from being fighters. We were relaxers and resters. My chief skill was dozing off during class, not fighting for my life.

  “Gather round, children,” said Silver. “I’ve always had a liking for ye young ones.”

  He pulled us away from the others and put his face to ours. “Arrh, since your good friends think you were deserters last night, why not join Captain Silver now, eh? What say you? Treasure be yours, I tell you!”

  The thought of joining with this black-hearted buccaneer made us all sick. But there was one piece of good news. At least we knew our friends were still alive.

  “No, thanks,” I said. “We’ll stay good guys.”

  “You said it,”’ said Frankie. “One for all and all for one.”

  “Don’t be too hasty,” said Silver. “Your lives may depend on your answer.”

  “Answer! Answer!” barked the parrot.

  “Aye,” said a pirate staring at us from beyond the fire. “We need to know where you stand.”

  Suddenly, Jim stepped forward. “I’ll tell you where we stand. A bit taller than you!”

  “Tell him, Jim!” I said. “You pirates want our answer? Well, our answer is—ha!”

  Silver turned his eyes on me. “What exactly do you mean?”

  I backed up. “Well, I mean … I mean … Jim, what do I mean?”

  Jim grinned. “What Devin means, Silver, is that you have six men left. Most are wounded. You have no ship. You have no treasure. And all because of us.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “We did everything. We were in the apple barrel and heard your evil plans—”

  “We cut the ship free,” added Frankie. “I mean, you gotta ask who’s winning here? Hmm? Hmm? I think it’s not you!”

  “What?” the pirate called Morgan snarled, emerging from the shadows. “If these children were the cause of us being beaten, I say, strike them down!”

  Before we could argue with him, he leaped at us. In a flash, Silver shot out his crutch, catching Morgan’s foot.

  Phoom! The pirate bit the dust right in front of us.

  “I be the captain here!” Long John Silver boomed. “And you be only the mates! Take a cutlass, him that dares to denounce me as your captain, and we’ll see the color of your guts!”

  The other pirates quickly picked Morgan up and carried him outside the log house. Instantly, they started arguing among themselves.

  Captain Silver crooked his finger at the three of us. “Look here,” he whispered. “Am I scared of them simpleminded buccaneers? Pah! No! But they do outnumber us. Look here, I’ll make a deal with ye three. I always knew ye were the way to that chart. I said to myself, stand by the children, and the children will stand by you. Be that right, now?”

  Jim eyed the pirate. “What are you saying?”

  “Arrh, if we band together now, we’ll save ourselves.”

  “Band together?” I said. “Are you kidding?”

  Jim scoffed, too. “How can we trust you, Silver? You’re the leader of these simpleminded buccaneers.”

  “Plus, we saw you kill Tom with your crutch,” said Frankie. “You’re a very bad man.”

  Silver rolled his eyes. “How can you trust me? Why, last night, when we came at the stockade again, your own Dr. Livesey trusted me enough to give me—”

  “To give you what?” asked Jim.

  Before we could find out more, the other buccaneers were back. Their thin, drawn, hungry faces and yellow eyes made them look more desperate than ever.

  Morgan stepped forward. “Silver, we’ve been talking. And, well, here—”

  He pushed a folded piece of paper into Silver’s hand.

  Silver examined it, then gasped. “The black spot?”

  “Black spot! Black spot!” the parrot shrieked.

  “Aye, we’re tipping you the black spot,” said a pirate named George Merry. “You’re done as captain.”

  “So!” boomed Silver. “You are removing me as captain? And you will have your evil way with us?”

  “That’s right,” said a third pirate. The others nodded.

  “Arrh, well, let me tell you something,” Silver went on, hopping about on his crutch. “These children here have hidden the ship. And we need the ship to haul the treasure away and to live our rich lives, don’t we?”

  “And where is the treasure?” Morgan snapped. “We don’t even know!”

  “Where’s the treasure?” asked Silver, his eyes lighting up strangely. “Why, right here!”

  With that, Silver pulled from inside his coat a wrinkled piece of paper and cast it down upon the floor.

  It was none other than the map to the treasure, its three red crosses seeming to gleam in the firelight.

  Jim, Frankie, and I practically stopped breathing.

  “Your black spot means nothing compared to a map of treasure!” Silver said triumphantly. “The good doctor gave me the treasure map!”

  “Treasure! Treasure!” said the parrot.

  It was as if we had been struck dumb. Dr. Livesey just gave this terrible pirate the treasure map? It was unbelievable!

  But if it was unbelievable to me and my pals, it was magical to the pirates. The leaped upon the map like me onto the Friday afternoon bus. The crinkled paper went from one greasy set of paws to another, and by the cries and gasps and stunned silence of each pirate, you could tell they thought it was pretty hot stuff.

  “And now,” said Silver, standing as straight as he could on his foot and crutch, “who is your captain?”

  “Long John Silver is our captain!” they all cheered. “Our captain forever!”

  “Arrh,” Silver murmured under his breath.

  “But how will we take our treasure away from the island without a ship?” one asked.

  “That’s where our young people come in,” said Long John. “They know where the ship is! And we know where the treasure is. Now let’s go and find our treasure!”

  Chapter 17

  As soon as the first light of dawn came over the island, we left the stockade and headed up toward Spyglass Hill.

  We made a strange crew. Silver had two guns slung about him, one in front and the other in back, to say nothing of the huge cutlass in his belt. That old parrot Captain Flint was perched on his shoulder and kept twisting its head around and gawking at me.

  Frankie, Jim, and I were tied by the waist with a ship’s rope, which S
ilver kept tugging to keep us moving.

  “All right, already,” snapped Frankie. “That hurts.”

  Silver stopped and turned. “Sorry, my dear. But look here, we’ll stick close, we four. We’ll watch each other’s backs, and save our lives—but, hush now!”

  Morgan and two of the others came up alongside to listen. Silver hailed them happily. “Just making sure these three prisoners know that our cutlasses and pistols are ready if they try to run. Arrh, arrh!”

  Silver hopped ahead with the other pirates, even as he tugged the rope to keep up our speed.

  “This guy is weirding me out,” I whispered to Frankie and Jim. “Is he lying to them, or to us?”

  Frankie shrugged. “What if it’s the whole apple barrel thing again? What if he hasn’t really changed his plan?”

  “Right,” said Jim. “Perhaps Silver is trying to get us to go along, pretending he’s on our side, then once the treasure is loaded, he will strike us down.”

  That was the problem. The problem with Long John’s whole character. For everything he said to us, he told his men the opposite. We overheard him telling them in great detail what he would do to us once we helped them find the ship and load it with treasure. It was what he’d been doing since the beginning of the book. Even from the very first time we met him.

  Long John Silver was playing a role.

  “I just hope the doctor, the captain, and the squire are all right,” said Jim. “We’ll need their help to escape.”

  Up ahead of us rose a tall woody hill.

  “Spyglass Hill,” one of the pirates whispered.

  “Arrh,” said Silver, unfolding the map and looking from it to the summit of the hill where several trees stuck out above the rest. “Now, which of those trees be the tall tree that Captain Flint hid his treasure near, do you think? Come, me mates, and let’s find out.”

  Little by little the hill began to steepen and become stony under our feet. As we climbed, I looked back out over the island. I could see more of it than ever before, and it really was beautiful. The high parts were thick with trees of all kinds, green and dense and dark. Here and there a clearing burned under the hot sun, sending clouds of insects buzzing around in the heat.