Treasure Island Page #3

It won't open, Jim.

No.

No!

- Stop it.

- Mother! Shake his...

- It's Billy.

- Someone's done for it.

Search him.

Run for the woods.

He's been overhauled already.

Aloft. Find the chest.

There's the chest.

The lady, you shucking lubbers.

Catch the boy. He's got it, you fools.

Pew, they've ransacked the bloody thing.

- It's gone. So's the money.

- And the money.

Come below and follow the boy.

All I want's to put his eyes out.

Scatter and find them.

They can't have gone far.

What the devil?

- Hey, who's that?

- Sheriff Dance.

Hey, let's go there, lads.

Come on, let's get out of here.

Black Dog, don't.

Israel.

You won't leave old Pew, mate.

Not old Pew.

Damn your eyes.

No.

- Leave him like that. After them.

- Aye, aye, sir.

After them.

Get up there.

Oh, dear.

Sheriff Dance saw a scooner

standing off and on in the cove.

Rather suspicious.

He reported it to me. Drink that.

I said we should roust up his men

and ride hard for the Admiral Benbow.

It were a lucky chance

we came when we did.

It were none too soon either.

They got the money, I presume.

They did not.

- Excuse me, doctor.

- Yes, Jim?

I don't think they're after the money.

What in fortune were they after then?

I think they were after this.

It should be put in a safe place.

To be sure, boy. Quite right.

We must go at once to Squire Trelawney

and open it in his presence.

He'll know what to do.

Jim, there's not a moment to lose.

Can you ride?

I tell you,

I have some business with the squire.

- Wake him up.

- No.

You must do it. We must wake him up.

Please do it. Please? Thank you.

- Livesey.

- Squire.

Well, where is it? Come on, man.

- Hawkins, you had quite the night, I hear.

- Yes, sir.

- Your coffee, sir.

- Thank you, Joyce.

Hot and hot.

Squire?

- Scotch, Livesey?

- Yeah, okay.

- Master Hawkins?

- That'll do, Joyce.

- Uh, milk, sir?

- All right. Thank you. Thank you.

- Uh, sugar, sir?

- No.

That'll do, Joyce.

Yes, sir.

Well, now, squire.

- First of all, we'll try the book.

- Yes.

"W. Burns, master's mate.

Off Palm Quay, he got it."

Some sort of an account.

"Bones his pile."

Can't make head nor tail of this.

Oh, Livesey, this is as plain as noon

to a seafaring man.

This is the black-hearted

scoundrel's account book.

Look, here. Now, look here.

This is a list of the town's sacked

or the ship's voyage...

...and here, the sums of Bone's share

of the loot.

Right you are.

You see what it is to be a traveler.

Now, and the other...

Treasure Island.

Bulk of treasure here.

Oh, God.

It must be...

"Tall tree, Spyglass shoulder,

bearing north northeast by north.

Skeleton Island, east southeast

and by east. Ten feet.

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