Read Online The Guns of Tortuga by Brad Strickland, THOMAS E. FULLER - Free Book Online Page A

Hunter’s table and chairs in the stern cabin, and there it was that my uncle, the captain, and I met to discuss my news.
    â€œWe know two things,” Hunter said. “The first is that something is up in Tortuga. It’s plain that there are more pirates here and, more openly, than there should be. And the second is that we have two Englishmen to save.” He nodded at me. “And that’s entirely thanks to Davy, here.”
    My uncle gave me a fiery stare of displeasure. “Thanks to Davy, indeed! ’Tis a good thing you took the trouble not to tell me what ye were about,” he declared. “For, sure, I would have warmed your breech for you!”
    â€œHe’s a brave lad, Patch,” Hunter put in with a smile. “While I was still planning and plotting, he took matters into his own hands, and did handsomely, I believe.”
    My uncle’s face flamed red. He turned on Hunter and loosed words at him like a broadside: “Aye, ye may grin and grin, and think ’tis fine sport to send Davy into danger, but mark me, Hunter, one of these days you’ll sail too close to the wind for your own good. ’Tis well enough to be careless of your own life—don’t throw Davy’s away as well.”
    â€œNow, now,” Hunter said calmly. His voice took on a note of authority that I had not heard there before. “Davy’s a part of the crew as much as I am—or you, for that matter. And crewmates stick together and act for the good of the ship, or else they all go to the bottom. Davy’s done no harm, and he’s done us a power of good. Now we have a name and a place for our mysterious captive.”
    â€œAnd what is the next step, sir?” I asked.
    Hunter was sitting at his table, back again in the
Aurora’
s cabin. Behind him, through the stern windows, I could see Tortuga Harbor, where dozens of sloops, brigs, and barks bobbed at anchor. If half of them were pirate vessels, I thought then, there must be thousands of pirates assembled here. Captain Hunter reached for pen, ink, and paper. “Now, Davy, you will take another note—”
    â€œThat he shall not!” bellowed my uncle. “If it comes to that, I shall bear the note myself. Or send Adams, or one of the men—”
    Hunter shook his head. “But they wouldn’t get away with it, for we are watched, aye, and closely watched at that. Have you not noticed that the servant Cesar is always within sight when you are on land?”
    My uncle looked stunned. “He has been following me?”
    â€œAye,” said the captain. “And I have my shadow, and Mr. Adams has his, and so on. When one of us sets a foot in Cayona, Monsieur Gille soon hears of it.”
    â€œBut if we are all watched—”
    Captain Hunter shook his head. “Not all. Alone of us all, so far as I know, the boy is not.”
    Uncle Patch simply glared at him, his chest rising and falling. “And how do you know that?”
    Hunter began to scribble away. “I know it because as the French watch us, we are watching them, of course. Give me credit for some sense, Patch. Besides, what is one boy in a busy place like Cayona? I’d wager sovereigns to sand dollars that not one Frenchman ashore would even remember Davy’s face half a minute after passing him by. To Gille, he is a servant, nothing more. You have never mentioned that Davy is your nephew, not in his hearing.”
    â€œHe could learn that from any member of the crew,” insisted my uncle with a sullen, dogged air.
    â€œAye, if he were interested in servants. But he is not, and my men would not tell. Nor will Morgan’s, I think, for Sir Henry chose the smartest heads among his old crews to fill our crew.”
    It took some wrangling, but when I pointed out that I was going only to the market square, not to the house itself, at last my uncle began to give in a bit. And finally I found just the way to