Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson

Only the trunk. That’s what they were guarding.
    I’m going to find out what’s in there.

CHAPTER 8
ADRIFT IN A DORY

    P RESTON AND HARBUCKLE, their hands tied to their feet behind their backs, lay on their fat belies on the bottom of the dory, looking like a pair of pudgy rocking horses. Their situation—
    bound and gagged, abandoned at sea without food or water—had been bad enough to begin with, but it was getting worse.
    They’d been drifting for a while now, each man struggling in vain to get free of his ropes. And now Preston, exhausted from the effort, could see that the water sloshing around the bottom with him was definitely higher.
    The dory was leaking.
    Figures, Preston thought. Black Stache wouldn’t waste a good boat just to kill us.
    Preston strained to look around. He could see that the dory was riding lower now. As the waves rol ed it, water sometimes sloshed over the sides.

    The little boat was going down.
    I’m going to drown, thought Preston. He felt a momentary pang of regret that he had not spent more time with his beloved wife. But it passed when he remembered that the reason he’d gone to sea in the first place was that he had never real y liked his beloved wife.
    The water in the dory was definitely higher now. Preston, who was not the world’s foremost thinker, was doing his best to formulate some kind of plan, when he heard Harbuckle, in the front of the dory, say something through his gag.
    “Bmmmgh!” it sounded like.
    Preston craned his neck to see his shipmate, who was looking back at him with a certain urgency in his eyes.
    “Gmmmmph!” Harbuckle said, arching his eyebrows in a meaningful way.
    Preston sensed that Harbuckle was trying to tel him something.
    “Wmmmmbh?” he queried.
    “Gmmmmph!” repeated Harbuckle, adding, “GMMMMPH!”
    Harbuckle rol ed sideways, so his back was to Preston. He looked over his shoulder and made a violent, look-down-there nod with his head toward his bound hands, the fingers of which were wiggling.
    “GMMMMMMMMMPH!” he said, sounding very impatient now.
    Ah! thought Preston. He wants me to do something. This seemed to Preston like a sound idea, doing something. But what? Preston made a frowny face at Harbuckle, to indicate, What?
    Looking exasperated, Harbuckle rol ed toward Preston, then rol ed away again, again nodding violently toward his hands.
    “GMMMMMPPPHH!!” he said, and suddenly Preston understood. He wants me to roll over, so he can untie my hands. What a good idea! He nodded his head violently, to indicate that he understood. Then, with a massive heave, he rol ed his bulky body toward Harbuckle’s.
    The good news was, Preston’s rol took him just the right distance; he and Harbuckle were now back to back, their hands just touching.
    The bad news was, by shifting his massive weight forward to join Harbuckle’s, he had overburdened the bow of the dory, and cold seawater was now sloshing into the tiny boat.
    “GMMMMMMMPPPHH!!!!” shouted Harbuckle, and Preston felt his shipmate’s hands clawing frantical y at the knots on his own. He tried to hold stil , but as the water rose, he had to squirm and struggle to keep his head above it—but the water was coming in fast, and Preston could no longer grab any gasps of air, and so he held his breath as long as he could, until his lungs screamed in agony and he grabbed at his aching chest and …
    Wait a minute. He was grabbing his chest, which meant…
    His hands were free!
    Desperately thrusting himself up, Preston got to his knees, tore the gag from his mouth and gulped sweet sea air. He saw that the dory was now swamped, but he was stil alive! He could barely believe it: a moment ago, he’d been at death’s door, but now here he was, stil breathing, and he owed it al to …
    Harbuckle!
    Preston plunged his head back underwater and found his shipmate’s body, not moving. Frantic, Preston grabbed Harbuckle by the hair and yanked his head to the surface, where— thank