Custardly Wart

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by Alan MacDonald


  ‘Maybe they will, shipmates! Look here!’ cried the voice of Mr Mate. They hurried over to find him scrabbling on his hands and knees. He had uncovered a brass handle. They cleared away the rubble, pulled hard and, slowly, out came the treasure chest. The Captain used his dagger to prise open the lid.

  ‘We did it, shipmates. We’re rich! Rich!’ he cried, plunging his hands into shining piles of gold and jewels.

  ‘Well, well! Sorry to spoil the party,’ sneered a voice behind them.

  They spun round to see Sly Morgan and the rest of his scurvy crew. They were armed with cutlasses and pointy sticks. It was Neffy Norris who had found the telltale footprints in the sand which eventually led them to the cave.

  The Captain stepped out to meet them. ‘Now there’s a lucky thing, lads! We was just on our way to find you!’

  ‘Were you now?’ said Sly Morgan, unable to take his eyes off the treasure.

  ‘Well, you don’t think we was planning to keep all the loot to ourselves, do you? Fair’s fair, boys – you helped look for it so we’ll split it between us. Half to me and a quarter each to you. What do you say?’

  Sly Morgan plucked off the Captain’s hat and set it on his own head.

  ‘I’ll tell you what,’ he said, ‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we keep the treasure and bury you under them rocks? That way everyone’s happy.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Custardly, ‘we’d be dead.’

  Morgan pulled a dagger from his belt. ‘And as you’re the clever one, you can be first.’

  Things might have gone very badly at this point if a loud boom hadn’t suddenly split the air, followed by something whistling overhead.

  ‘The ship!’ shouted Mr Mate, pointing over Custardly’s shoulder. ‘We’re saved!’

  The Salty Gherkin had returned in the nick of time. As Angela would proudly explain later, they had been sailing in circles since yesterday afternoon blown back and forth at the mercy of the wind. Finally Angela and her crew had worked out how to trim the sails and steer the ship. They’d arrived back at the island just in time to hear the loud boom as the cave collapsed. Angela had steered for the bay and scanned the beach with her telescope. Seeing her friends were in trouble, she’d ordered the cannons to open fire with the only ammunition they could find – broken biscuits.

  BOOM! A volley of Gingernuts whistled through the air and stung Sly Morgan on the ear.

  ‘We’re under attack!’ he cried. ‘Take cover!’

  Morgan’s cowardly crew scattered in all directions, looking for somewhere to hide.

  Custardly and Dobbs took cover behind the treasure chest, where they found the Captain guarding it with both fingers in his ears.

  BOOM! A hail of Custard Creams rained down on Runnynose Ralph, splatting him with yellow goo. Neffy Norris tried to run but the next salvo peppered his backside with biscuits. ‘I’ve been macarooned!’ he yelped, which for once was true.

  Custardly and Dobbs sprang up and joined in the attack, pelting their enemies with handfuls of rubies, emeralds and diamonds as big as duck eggs. Caught between the fire of the cannons and a barrage of precious stones, the pirates fled and hid behind the biggest rock they could find. A moment later a greyish flag emerged and waved in the air. (It looked suspiciously like a pair of old pants.)

  ‘Mercy!’ begged the pirates. ‘We surrender!’

  The Captain bravely came out from his hiding place and held up a hand.

  ‘All right, lads – cease fire! The battle’s over!’ he bellowed.

  BOOM! A hail of butter shortbread rained down on him like bullets.

  Chapter 12

  Shipmates All

  That evening the crew of The Salty Gherkin crammed into the Captain’s cabin for a mighty feast. Everyone was there except Sly Morgan and his scurvy gang, who had been set adrift in a rowing boat and left to find their way home.

  The Captain had broken open his secret supply of biscuits – the double chocolate ones he kept hidden under his bed. At the height of the feast he stood up to make a short speech.

  ‘Boil me bedsocks, shipmates!’ he grinned. ‘Didn’t I promise you that I’d find the treasure?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Custardly. ‘Although it is Dobbs who deserves the credit. He’s the one who solved the riddle.’

  Dobbs blushed modestly as everyone cheered and thumped him on the back.

  ‘And if it wasn’t for Custardly,’ he said, ‘I wouldn’t be alive. None of us would. He’s the bravest of us all.’

  ‘Right enough,’ agreed the Captain. ‘I knew that boy was a pirate from the moment I clapped eyes on him. Shipmate, come over here.’

  Custardly rose to his feet and came round the table. The Captain produced a large feathered hat which he’d been keeping for special occasions and set it on Custardly’s head.

  ‘There,’ he said. ‘Now you looks like a proper pirate.’ He drew out his cutlass. ‘As Captain of this ship, I hereby name you First Officer of The Salty Gherkin and Keeper of the Ship’s Biscuits.’

  Custardly stood on a chair and swept off his hat with a flourish as his classmates cheered.

  ‘But what about the rest of us?’ It was Angela who spoke up. ‘Now we’ve found the treasure, do we have to go back to school?’

  A silence fell. The prospect of returning to Dankmarsh and Miss Scrubshaw’s dreary lessons after all their adventures filled them with gloom.

  ‘But listen,’ said Custardly. ‘Who knows where we are?’

  ‘I do,’ answered Mr Mate. ‘We’re somewhere in the south sea.’

  ‘No,’ said Custardly. ‘I mean who knows we’re here? Miss Scrubshaw doesn’t, so how can she make us go back? I say we take a vote on it. All those in favour of going back to school say “Aye.”’

  No one spoke.

  ‘All those in favour of living the life of a pirate, say “Aharrrrr!”’

  ‘AHARRRR!’ cried everyone, pulling fierce piratical faces and waving their fists.

  ‘Carried!’ cried Custardly. ‘Captain, what’s our course?’

  The Captain tugged at his black beard. ‘That’s a good question. Now you come to mention it, who’s steering the ship?’

  There was a shuddering crunch followed by a longer scraping noise. Everyone fell over and slid to one end of the cabin as The Salty Gherkin hit a sandbank and ran aground.

  ‘Barnacles!’ muttered the Captain.

  Footnote

  1 Grog – A mixture of rum and water.

  Other titles in the History of Warts series

  Ditherus Wart – Accidental Gladiator

  Look out for

  Honesty Wart – Witch Hunter!

  Sir Bigwart – Knight of the Wonky Table

  Bloomsbury Publishing, London, New Delhi, New York and Sydney

  First published in Great Britain in June 2008 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  50 Bedford Square, London, WC1B 3DP

  This electronic edition published in December 2012 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

  www.bloomsbury.com

  Copyright © Alan MacDonald 2008

  The moral rights of the author and illustrators have been asserted

  All rights reserved

  You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages

  A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

  eISBN: 978-1-4088-1933-3

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