Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson Page A

“perhaps we should wait until after…”
    “NOW!” Stache roared. “OPEN THE TRUNK!”
    The greatest treasure ever sent to sea. Stache meant to see it now, in his moment of glory.
    Two sailors fired pistols at the locks. The chains fel away. Stache saw the idjit Englishman move forward, staring intently at the trunk lid.
    “What’s that look in your eye, Englishman?” Stache thundered. “You think a genie’s going to jump out and save you?”

    “Something like that,” the Englishman answered, and something in his voice unsettled Stache for just a moment. As he watched, the Englishman’s hand reached inside his shirt.
    “Grab his arms,” Stache shouted.
    A burly sailor quickly pinned Aster’s arms behind his back.
    “TEN LENGTHS!”
    “Cap’n,” said Smee, “we…”
    “Quiet!” said Stache, striding over to the Englishman and ripping open his shirt. A bright gold locket sparkled in the sun.
    “What have we here?” said Stache. He reached for the locket, and as his fingers touched it, he felt the strangest feeling, as if…
    “FIVE LENGTHS!”
    “Sir!” shouted Smee. “I think they’re going to board us!”
    The Englishman pul ed back, drawing the locket from Stache’s grasp. Stache shook his head, as if awakening from a dream. He saw that the Wasp was less than three boat lengths away, its aft deck swarming with armed sailors.
    He turned, stared for an instant into the intense green eyes of the Englishman, then leaned over to open the trunk. Time seemed to stand stil as the lid slowly came up; a smile formed on Stache’s lips as he readied himself to gaze upon the greatest treasure ever sent to sea.
    “WHAT?” he screamed. He looked up, his face twisted with fury. “What trickery is this, Englishman?” He grabbed Aster by the coat and dragged him around the trunk lid so he could see inside.
    The trunk was fil ed with sand.
    The Englishman gasped, snapped his head up, and looked out to sea, suddenly remembering Ammm’s message: On Molly ship…
    Black Stache fol owed the man’s gaze. He’s as surprised as I am, he thought.
    And then Stache remembered: there had been a second ship leaving port on the day he’d been watching the Wasp. It, too, had taken many trunks aboard.
    “They pul ed a switch, didn’t they, Englishman?”
    Aster stared defiantly at the pirate.
    “It’s on the other ship, isn’t it?” said Stache.
    Aster’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent.
    “TWO LENGTHS!”
    “It seems you’ve been had, Englishman,” said Stache. “And so have I. But unlike you, I can do something about it, as soon as I have the Wasp. ”
    “BRACE YOURSELVES!” came the shout from above. “WE’RE GOING TO RAM!”
    Stache gestured to the burly sailor. “Take the Englishman below and lock him up,” he said. “I’l deal with him later.” The burly sailor reached for Aster, but just as he did the prow of the Sea Devil struck the stern of the Wasp. The deck shuddered violently, and the sailor fel .
    Before he could get up, Leonard Aster had leaped overboard.
    Stache cursed and raced to the rail. Looking over he saw nothing at first, and then… was that the back fin of a porpoise?
    There was no time to look further. An arrow whizzed overhead, and the Sea Devil’ s mainsail came cascading down on Stache and his crew.
    The battle had begun.
    It took only a few bloody minutes for Captain Scott to understand the awful truth: his second gamble had also failed. His men fought courageously, but the pirates outnumbered them two to one. He could not stomach watching his men be slaughtered in a hopeless cause.
    Despair seeping into his soul, he tied his white handkerchief to the tip of his sword and gave the signal for surrender. The flag was greeted by sul en acceptance from his brave crew, and howls of triumph from the pirates. Scott’s last, desperate hope now was that he could bargain, somehow, for the lives of his men.
    But he held no hope for himself. He was the captain, and he had