Read Online Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson - Free Book Online Page B

momentarily staggered by the odor, then scrunched up his face and forced himself forward into the cabin, like a man walking against a gale.
    “Aye, Cap’n?” he said, through gritted teeth.
    “Sit down, men,” said Stache.
    Smee and Storey looked around. There was nowhere to sit except the bunk, which was covered with rotting food, and a wooden stool, upon which sat a large fur-covered lump
    —an old cheese, perhaps, or a dead cat.
    “If it’s al the same, Cap’n,” said Storey, “I’l stand.”
    “Me, too, Cap’n,” said Smee.
    Black Stache looked around his cabin, apparently noticing its condition for the first time.
    “Smee,” he said, “where the devil is my cabin boy? This place is a mess.”
    “You had him walk the plank, Cap’n,” said Smee.
    “I did?”
    “You did, Cap’n,” said Smee. “For touching your model ships.” Smee chose not to add that the cabin boy had walked off the ship almost cheerful y, knowing he would no longer have to try to clean Black Stache’s cabin.

    “Ah, so I did,” said Stache. “I’l want you to get me a new cabin boy when we take the Wasp. ”
    “Aye, Cap’n,” said Smee. This would be the sixth cabin boy in less than a year.
    “Now, about the Wasp, ” said Black Stache, looking at Storey. “Are we ready?”
    “We are, Cap’n,” said Storey. He pointed toward the ship models, careful not to touch them. “We’ve been gaining steady, with the rowing. Now we’re sitting just right for a downwind run. Your plan was right on the money, Cap’n. I don’t care how fast the Wasp is; with this wind, and this heading, when we raise the Ladies, we’l close on her in no time.”
    “And the Ladies are ready?” said Black Stache.
    “Aye, Cap’n.”
    “Al right, then,” said Black Stache, pausing dramatical y, savoring the moment. “Raise the Ladies.”
    “Aye, aye, sir!” shouted Storey and Smee, lunging for the doorway, and fresh air.
    After they left, Black Stache turned his eyes to his model ships. He put his hand gently, almost lovingly, on the model of the Sea Devil. Slowly, he moved it forward until it touched the Wasp. He kept pushing until the Wasp reached the edge of the table. Then, smiling, he gave it a vicious shove; the Wasp model fel , its delicate hul smashing into pieces on the floor. Black Stache laughed, his breath further befouling the rancid cabin air. Then he stood and, stepping on the remains of the Wasp, stalked out of the cabin.
    Time for the kill.

CHAPTER 11
THE MESSENGERS

    I T WAS JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT, an overcast night, no moonlight or starlight reaching the dark deck of the Never Land. The wind was steady at about five knots; the fat ship plowed forward on a fol owing sea.
    Mol y, wearing a blanket like a cloak over her nightgown, emerged from the ladderway and looked quickly around. Seeing no one, she walked swiftly to the stern rail, her feet bare on the scarred wood of the deck. She’d not dared to put on shoes when she’d left the cabin, for fear she’d wake the snoring Mrs. Bumbrake.
    After glancing quickly around again, she leaned over the stern rail and peered out at the dark water. She saw only the ship’s churning wake, ghostly pale by the light of the ship’s lone stern lantern. Her eyes strained to see more.
    Where were they? She wondered if she was too early. Or, worse, too late.
    Tel ing time on the ship was a problem, especial y when overcast skies kept Mol y from seeing the stars.
    Five minutes went by. To Mol y, it felt like an hour.
    Where were they?
    Mol y heard a man’s voice, and she tensed, ready to race back to the ladderway. But then she heard another voice, and realized it was two sailors, wel forward, passing another long night watch with the endless gossip of a ship at sea.
    Mol y relaxed and turned her gaze back toward the …
    What was that?
    She squinted at the patch of dark water where she thought she’d seen something, at the rightmost edge of the roiling wake.
    There!
    Mol y’s