At the Boar’s Throat Inn
On board the Hispaniola…
Jim felt as if he was in a volcano. Letting out a raspy breath, he absentmindedly peeled away the skin from another fresh, emerald apple. Its way too hot, he thought, keeping his head low. Too hot to be stuck in this cabin, anyway.
Behind him, he could feel Silver’s sharp, watchful gaze on his sweating back, and Jim wondered if the old cook knew his thoughts. The cabin boy wouldn’t be surprised if the one-legged scoundrel was picking into his idled mind at that moment, which seemed to drag on and on as the day grew hotter.
“Jim, my boy! How are those apples comin’?” Silver’s rough, growling voice wafted over Jim, who bo