The Lost Treasure 4 by Ellis Byrd

Author:Ellis Byrd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2018-03-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Just off the northern shore of the island, several animals crowded behind the overturned Wayfarer. Each one was holding on to one of the thick vines tied to the mast and the deck’s railing, waiting excitedly for Graham’s command.

“On three!” the monkey Alpha called through a conch shell he was using as a megaphone. “One . . . two . . . three! Heave!”

With grunts and shouts, the crew pulled as hard as they could. Slowly, the Wayfarer began to tilt toward them, until finally it landed in the water with a splash.

“Well done!” Graham cried, beaming at the sight of the lily pad sails blowing in the wind, and the crew cheered. “Now we can get to work installing the propellers and repairing the hole in the hull. Everyone, please see Eugenie for your assignments!”

The crew huddled around Eugenie, who began dividing them into groups: one to clean the mounds of grimy jewels and coins from the treasure chest; the second to separate them into piles of makeshift nuts, bolts, and washers; and a third to drag the two giant propellers onto the ship. As the animals got to work, Graham spotted Sir Gilbert and Peck on a large dune just up the beach. Sir Gilbert was peering through a spyglass, while Peck was, as usual, studying the map. She had been a bit despondent ever since the incident with the treasure chest and the trap, and Graham decided to go cheer her up.

“Good news, my friends!” he called as he hiked up the steep dune. “Now that the Wayfarer is right side up again, the rest of the repairs should go quickly!”

“Awesome!” said Peck, but her smile wasn’t as enthusiastic as usual. “I’m really glad all those coins and stuff were useful.”

“Quite useful,” Graham agreed. “And those propellers as well. We never would have found what we needed if you hadn’t gone off course to look for treasure!”

He said it kindly, but Peck still looked glum. Graham scratched his head, trying to think of another way to cheer her up. But before he could say anything else, Sir Gilbert cleared his throat and lowered the spyglass.

“I believe we might have a problem,” he said, handing the spyglass to Graham. “Can you look over there and tell me what you see?”

Graham held the spyglass to his eye and aimed it in the direction Sir Gilbert was pointing. Movement caught his eye, and he frowned, adjusting the focus and zooming in on three figures making their way through the rocks many miles away. Two of the figures were dark and rather blobby, each with a single unblinking eye. The other was a familiar koala.

“Phantoms,” Graham said in disbelief. “And it looks like they have Wylie!”

Peck jumped up in alarm, her map forgotten. “What? Are you sure?”

“One’s wearing a green tricorne hat,” Graham reported, twisting the viewfinder. “The other has what appears to be a purple bandanna around his head, and . . . and a staff. Oh no.” Lowering the spyglass, he stared at Sir Gilbert.

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