Free X Marks the Spot by Tony Abbott Page A

war must end!”
    The grown-ups made sure that the dead sailors were buried respectfully in the stockade yard, but wouldn’t let Frankie and Jim and me help. It was a dark moment for us, not to mention the poor characters who had died.
    â€œDevin, I don’t like this,” Frankie said, wiping away a tear. “I mean, I know it’s easy for an author to say somebody died. It’s just words. But when you’re really into a story—and how much more into it can we be?—it means more than just words. These are people. When they die, you get sad.”
    â€œI know how you feel. I want to cry, too. But we have to keep going. We can do it. We have to do it. There’s more story to go, and we have to see it through.”
    Frankie looked at me, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Okay, but we have to stick together.”
    â€œI wouldn’t have it any other way,” I said.
    After the burials, Dr. Livesey seemed deep in thought. Finally, he plopped his hat over his head, stuffed the treasure map in his pocket, took a musket, and went to the front gate. “The rest of you stay here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
    â€œWait, doctor,” said Frankie, “what if the pirates are still out there?”
    Without answering, the doctor strode out of the stockade and set off quickly through the trees.
    â€œHe’s taking a big risk going out there,” I said.
    â€œI bet he’s going to see Ben Gunn,” said Jim.
    â€œBen Gunn?” I said. “I hope he packed his cheese!”
    Jim chuckled, then said he was going to check up on the wounded captain.
    I turned to Frankie. “With everything else going on, let’s not forget the green feather. We still have to find it or we probably can’t go home. Maybe we can get Jim to help us search. Starting right here in the stockade. That feather has to be somewhere.”
    â€œGood idea,” said Frankie. “Let’s talk to him.”
    But Jim wasn’t with the captain. We found him near the biscuit barrel, stuffing his pockets with the dry, tasteless things.
    â€œHey, that’s our breakfast,” said Frankie. “Not to mention our lunch and supper. What are you doing?”
    â€œThe doctor is on a mission,” said Jim. “Now it’s my turn.”
    That was when we noticed that not only had Jim packed a wad of biscuits, he’d also packed two pistols.
    â€œWhoa, dude, what’s your big plan?” I asked.
    Jim peered through the gates into the jungle. “Ben Gunn said he built a little boat. I’m going to find it and sail out to the Hispaniola .”
    â€œThat’s nutty. The pirates have the ship now,” I said.
    Frankie stuck her nose in the book. Suddenly, she gasped. “I can’t believe it. You don’t mean—”
    â€œI do!” said Jim. “I mean to take over the ship!”
    â€œWhoa, danger, danger!” I said. “Pirates! Guns! Kids! Not a good mix! Let’s look for soft feathers instead —”
    â€œDevin, wait,” said Frankie, pulling me aside. “Emergency huddle.”
    â€œI’ll say, emergency,” I said. “We have to stop Jim—”
    â€œWe can’t,” she said, pointing to a page in the book. “He has to do this.”
    I stared at her, then at the words on the page. “But he’s just a kid going up against a pirate ship! Alone!”
    Frankie shook her head. “Devin, look at him.”
    I looked. Jim was still peering out the gate at the deep jungle beyond. When he turned to look back at us, there was a gleam of mischief in his eye that was all about adventure. Fine. This was an adventure story and he was one of the main people in it. But there was something else, too. Jim had seen his father die. Then Billy Bones. He’d seen poor Tom get the crutch in his back. He’d seen other good men fall to the pirate attack. He was close by