11 Treasure!

11. TREASURE! Jim and his dad were back aboard the Blackhole. They'd tied the car-boat along- side the ship and left Bones sitting on the backseat, guarding the parrots. Jim had just outlined the plan to his mom and Grandpa, and had made sure the fiddler, who was hopping around on the poop deck singing shanties, hadn't heard any of it. As Jim talked, Grandpa had been busy whittling a lump of timber

he'd picked from their basket, fashioning himself a temporary leg. "So, do ye want to join us, Grandpa?" said Jim's dad. "Me, ye, and Jim can get back yer leg from the Pirate Cruncher, we'll grab a shipful o' gold and maybe rescue a few o' them pirates!" "Let's go!" said Grandpa, strapping his temporary peg to his leg before flinging his belt over his shoulder. "I've got an argument to finish with that beast, I 'ave." "Grandpa can go if he wants, but you're not goin' anywhere!" said Jim's mom, glaring at her husband. "That cursed fiddler is your friend, ye invited him, so ye can stay 'ere! I've had enough of his singin' for one day!"

"But I want to..." mumbled Jim's dad. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, grabbed the keys to the vehicle from out of his hands, and climbed down the rope ladder and into the driver's seat. The old fiddler appeared over the Blackhole's rail and serenaded them with a shanty as they chugged away. "Off you go, boys, but I think I'll stay here! I doubt what you find will bring you good cheer. For a pile of old metal you don't really need has brought on a dangerous case of greed!

And being greedy, you know, is wrong, which brings me at last to the end of my so—" "Oh, be quiet!" grumbled Jim's dad. The chug-chug-chug of the car-boat had sent Grandpa to sleep. Squawk was snoring on his shoulder, and Bones was fast asleep across his lap. Jim was sitting cross-legged on the front of the vehicle, scanning the horizon with a telescope. "LAND AHOY!" he yelled, pointing to a solitary palm tree in the distance.

Jim's mom turned to port a little and opened the throttle. Jim climbed around the windshield and toward the rear of the boat, where the cage of parrots was perched. Pretty Polly! Pieces of Eight! Fish and Chips! Eat yer greens! Yer mother was a lubber!

"Shhh!" said Jim, with his finger to his lips. "Ye'll need to be quiet now. Just fer a while!" Jim pulled a tarpaulin up around the cage and shackled the top closed with a lock and chain. He hung the key around his neck and jumped into the front seat, next to his mom. "Do ye think it'll wait for us to climb ashore, Mom? Before it eats us?" "I reckon it will," said his mom. "I'll drive on yonder sand and we'll see what happens. Maybe fasten yer seatbelt and stay in the vehicle. We'll be tossed about like a force ten before we end up in its tummy." As they drew nearer to the island, Jim spotted an enormous treasure chest