Hunt for the Panther 3 (9781101610923) (5 page)

Jem couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Josephine, whoever she was. She had no idea what she was in for.

“Sink me.” Scarlet suddenly turned pale. “I’m going to have dress up, aren’t I?” She turned to Jem, eyes wide. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’m going to have to wear a dress! And
petticoats
!
Blast
!” She shook her fist at the moon, nearly punching Edwin in the head.

Jem turned away for a moment, to sort things out in his brain. It was a perplexing situation, no doubt. But it wouldn’t be the first time Scarlet had left him in charge. He’d had to lead the crew several times in the past few weeks while she’d been off chasing an irritated monkey or an ara with indigestion. It had been tricky at first, getting them to listen to him, but now it was easier, especially after he’d overseen the tree house–building project. Three weeks was a long time, though.

I’ll be Deputy Captain,
he thought, then brightened.
That’s a good title.
Maybe I can handle this.
And he turned back to Scarlet to tell her so.

“And I’ll have to comb my hair,” Scarlet was saying. “And use those… those things to eat with,” she went on. “What’re they called again, Fitz?”

“Cutlery,” Jem said.

“Exactly.” Scarlet nodded. “I
detest
cutlery. Knives are for cutting off pirates’ noses, not buttering bread.”

“But what about the panther?” Edwin asked. “How are we going to fend it off without you?”

Jem’s stomach dropped. He’d forgotten about the panther.

Scarlet paused and stared at Edwin. Then she shook
her head. “You’re right. I can’t do it. I can’t stay here. I’ll go tell him right now.”

“Wait.” Jem reached out and laid a hand on her arm. “You have to,” he said, sounding a hundred times more certain than he felt. “Your father’s right—you have to keep up appearances so your uncle doesn’t find out about the island. You’ll… you’ll be protecting it, in a way,” he added.

She didn’t look convinced. And frankly, neither was he. Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t just the panther that stood to cause him trouble. He couldn’t understand the other animals like Scarlet could—suppose they needed to tell him about an intruder? And communicating with the Islanders was no picnic, either. Only Scarlet knew how to do those things.

“Well, it scuttles for sure,” Tim finally spoke up. “But it might actually be helpful.”

Scarlet looked at him incredulously. “How could it
possibly
be helpful?”

“Well, Liam and I heard a nasty rumor while we were stealing daggers from some swabs’ boots. Didn’t we, Liam?”

Liam nodded. “We didn’t hear the whole story, but it sounds like there’s a new captain sailing around, and he’s going to be trouble.”

“I heard that, too,” Smitty said.

Scarlet snapped her fingers. “That’s right! My father told me about him, but I completely forgot about it after he told me the other news.”

“What’s this? What’s going on?” Jem demanded.
He hadn’t heard anything about a pirate captain while searching for the hooks and nails he needed for the tree houses.

“Some pirate’s determined to be the most powerful in all the tropics,” Scarlet told him. “They call him the Rebel, and he wants the fastest ship and all the treasure around. And he’s gathering a crew of the dirtiest scoundrels to back him up.”

“Like Pegleg Ted,” said Tim. “And Deadeye Johnny. You remember old Deadeye, Jem?”

Jem’s stomach dropped down to his toes. “How could I forget?” He’d once stolen a silver and ivory–handled pocketknife from Deadeye Johnny, before learning that the pirate was one of the fiercest around. Deadeye had chased him around port, threatening to cut off his nose, and Jem didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d do it, even now.

“Which is why I can’t be stuck in port,” Scarlet said, just as Tim concluded, “Which is why you need to be in port.”

“What?” Scarlet spun toward him. “Swig, are you crazy?”

“We need a spy.” Tim straightened his spectacles. “We need someone to find out everything they can about this new captain.”

Jem nodded. Tim had a point. “That way, we’ll be two steps ahead of him if he finds out about the treasure. He’ll never take us by surprise, and you’ll be protecting the island from afar,” Jem finished, now far more convinced in his logic.

Scarlet thought about this for a moment, then agreed that it made sense. “But I don’t see why it has to be me. Emmett could do it. Or Edwin.”

“Doubt I could pass for the admiral’s daughter,” Emmett quipped.

“I’d look terrible in a dress,” added Edwin.

Scarlet groaned. “I’ll look just as bad!”

“Not possible,” said Smitty. “Have you seen Ed’s legs?”

“Hey now!” Edwin protested.

“Captain, come on,” Jem cut in. “It won’t be that bad.” Actually, a few weeks in port with square meals and a real bed sounded like a nice holiday to him. The admiral probably even had a library in his quarters. If there was one thing Jem missed about the Old World, it was reading before bed at night. He briefly thought about asking Scarlet to steal him a book or two, then decided it wasn’t the time.

Scarlet shook her head. “Oh, it’ll be bad, all right,” she growled. “It’ll absolutely scuttle.”

Jem opened his mouth to protest again, but she cut him off.

“But I’ll do it for the island,” she said. “On one condition.”

“What?” asked Jem.

“That none of you lunkheads say the word
dress
again till I’m gone.”

“Hey, Fitz, wanna see what I got for Sina?” Smitty
asked Jem once they’d weighed anchor and begun to sail for home. After finally bidding Scarlet farewell, they’d rowed back out to the
Hop
and tried to get a few hours of sleep before sunrise. Jem had failed miserably, and he could tell by their droopy eyes the others had as well.

Jem looked up from the sail he was mending, sitting cross-legged on the fo’c’sle. He shaded his eyes from the sun. “You found a gift, then?”

Smitty nodded, crouching down beside him and digging in his pocket. “Whaddya think?” He pulled out a hair clip made from a tortoise shell. “Nice, hey? I think it’s supposed to look something like this.” Smitty snapped the clip around a bunch of his hair, so that it spouted like a dirty blond fountain off the crown of his head. “Except nicer. Sina’s hair is much nicer.” A dreamy look spread over his face.

Jem tried not to laugh. “It’s, um, nice,” he said. “But Smitty, think for a moment. What’s the most important thing in the world to Sina?”

Smitty thought about this, then concluded, “Kapu.”

“True,” Jem admitted. “But other than her brother. What’s the second most important thing to her?”

“Um…” Smitty thought again. “The island, maybe? She’s big on nature.”

“Exactly.” Jem looked pointedly at the clip.

Smitty untangled it from his hair and looked from the clip to Jem and back again. “I don’t get it.”

Jem sighed. “Smit, someone offed a tortoise to make that.”

Smitty’s mouth fell open, and he dropped the clip.
“You’re right! Blimey, Sina would
hate
that.” He looked at Jem. “Wow, you saved my hide, Fitz. Thanks a million. But what am I going to get her now?”

Fortunately, before Jem could begin brainstorming gift ideas, Tim began shouting from the ship’s wheel.

“All hands on deck!” he hollered. “Mysterious vessel, dead ahead!”

Jem and Smitty scrambled to their feet and ran over to the wheel. Liam, Emmett, and Edwin were already there, pointing at something in the distance. Tim dug the spyglass out of his pocket and raised it to his eye.

“What is it?” Jem squinted. He could just make out a tiny black dot on the horizon.

“What the flotsam?” Tim murmured. He lowered the spyglass and handed it to Jem without taking his eyes off the speck in the distance. “You’re not going to believe this.”

Jem pressed the spyglass to his eye. It took a moment for him to find the boat, which turned out to be even smaller than he’d thought. In fact, it was tiny.

“Is it… a dinghy?”

“In the middle of the ocean?” said Liam.

“Look closer,” said Tim.

Jem stared harder at the tiny bobbing boat, until the two passengers inside it came into view. Both were sunburned to a crisp, as if they’d been adrift on the open ocean for days. One—a tall man with a red bandana wrapped around his head—had a single oar. The other man was wearing a tattered coat several sizes too big for him. He seemed to be directing the man with the oar,
who looked ready to throw him overboard.

“What is it?” Edwin tugged on Jem’s shirtsleeve. “
Who
is it?”

Jem lowered the spyglass and looked at Tim, whose incredulous expression, he guessed, mirrored his own. “It’s… it’s…”

“Exactly,” said Tim.

“But
how…
?”

“No idea.” Tim turned the wheel, steering them toward the dinghy. “But we’re going to have to find out.”

The Lost Souls hauled the Dread Pirate Captain Wallace Hammerstein-Jones and his right-hand man, Iron “Pete” Morgan, out of their dinghy and onto the
Hop.
The pirates flopped onto the main deck like fresh-caught flounder, gasping for water. Liam tossed them each a canteen.

Edwin tied their rowboat to the bow of the ship, and Smitty bound their hands and feet. Pete and Captain Wallace might have been in trouble, but they were still enemies of the Lost Souls. The last time Jem had seen them, in fact, they’d been trying to steal the treasure. Fortunately, the Lost Souls had been able to chase them off before they could spot any rubies.

The pirates guzzled their water until Jem began to wonder if they might burst. Finally, Captain Wallace set down his canteen and took a long, deep breath. He looked around him, his rodent eyes taking in each of his captors one at a time. “Phooey,” he said.

Smitty unsheathed his cutlass and pointed it right between the captain’s eyes. “Well, Cap’n,” he said cheerfully. “Long time, no see.”

Captain Wallace groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” said Smitty. “We’ve got so much to catch up on. Look, I’ll start. Let me tell you all about the girl I love.”

The captain groaned again and covered his face with his bound hands.

“All right, then.” Smitty
tsk
ed. “
You
start. Tell us how you and your man ended up in a dinghy in the middle of the sea.”

Tim prodded the captain’s boot with his toe. “Come on. Out with it.”

“I’ll explain.” Pete set his canteen aside. “Thanks for that, by the way. Always knew you young’uns weren’t such a bad lot.”

Jem raised an eyebrow. Pete was smarter than most pirates, but he still wasn’t to be trusted.

Captain Wallace glared at him, but Pete ignored him. “Too bad I can’t say the same for your former crewmate,” he continued. “He’s the reason we were out there for days, with no water and barely a speck of food.”

“What?” Jem said. “What did you say?”

“There would have been more than a speck if you hadn’t dropped the hardtack overboard,” Captain Wallace muttered.

“Look, I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” Pete looked as if he’d had to restrain himself many a time from dropping the captain overboard, too.

“
Sorry
isn’t good enough, butterfingers!” cried Captain Wallace.

“Wait!” Jem yelled. “What are you talking about? Do you mean Lucas?”

Smitty turned his cutlass on Pete. “What about Lucas?” he asked. “What happened?”

“The blasted little biscuit-eater mutinied!” Captain Wallace cried. “On me! The Dread Pirate Captain Wallace Hammerstein-Jones! Terror of the Seven Seas! Feared by sailors from one shore to—”

“Right, we get it.” Smitty silenced him by pointing his cutlass back between the captain’s eyes. “What about Lucas?”

“Lucas Lawrence convinced nearly every pirate on board the
Dark Ranger
to turn against the captain and follow him instead.” Pete gritted his teeth. “Stupid child. I knew ever since I laid eyes on him that he’d only be trouble.”

“Oh no,” Jem whispered as his stomach plummeted.

“Oh, you did, did you?” Captain Wallace sneered at Pete. “Then why didn’t you say so?”

“Say so!” Pete cried. “I
said so
every day, at least a dozen times. You didn’t listen!”