Authors: Gordon Korman
At the mention of the great ship, James Gilhooley himself rushed to the door and snatched the envelope, tossing a few coins to the man. “My baby brother’s aboard her!” He ripped open the Marconigram and examined the paper, his face flushing with anger. “Damned if he isn’t in jail!” he roared. “And Seamus, too!”
“Why would we expect better from the English?” growled the man behind the bar.
“It wasn’t the English!” Gilhooley raged. “It was that little street rat!
His
partner!”
All attention in the room turned to the boy who was on his hands and knees on the floor, scrubbing with a wire brush.
Daniel Sullivan.
His eyes were still swollen nearly shut from the beating he’d received at the hands of this gang more than a week ago. By all rights, he should have been dead, and would have been. But the Gilhooleys had decided it was fine sport to keep him alive and turn him into an unpaid drudge and captive. For the past ten days, he had washed floors, cleaned water closets, and slaved over dishes and laundry for a group of
men who taunted and tormented him at every turn. The men who had thrashed him and murdered Paddy.
Only Paddy
wasn’t
dead! Daniel smiled as he scrubbed, ignoring the pain of a split lip. His friend had gotten away. Not only that, but he’d managed to land himself aboard the greatest ship in the world, right alongside Mr. Thomas Andrews himself. Better still, Paddy had been instrumental in having Kevin Gilhooley and his muscleman tossed in the clink.
As miserable as Daniel’s lot had become, as bleak as his future might be, he still felt joy at the knowledge that his friend was sailing away toward a new life in America.
Nothing could stop Paddy now!
EPILOGUE
RMS
TITANIC
F
RIDAY,
A
PRIL
12, 1912, 4:35 P.M.
On the forepeak, three elegant gentlemen stood in silent contemplation of the flawless sky and glass-smooth Atlantic. The ship beneath their feet moved effortlessly through the water. Never before had a liner cut the waves with so little vibration that one might mistake it for a building set on solid ground. The three were Thomas Andrews, designer of this magnificent vessel; J. Bruce Ismay, managing director of the White Star Line; and E. J. Smith, the most celebrated sea captain in the world. Even more rock-steady than the
Titanic
herself was the wealth of experience represented by this trio. No passenger could glance up at them without feeling a surge of confidence and pride that the maiden voyage could not be in better hands.
A uniformed crew member stepped onto the foredeck and approached the captain. His name was Jack
Phillips, chief wireless operator aboard the
Titanic.
“A message from the shipping lanes ahead, sir. Ice has been reported above forty-two degrees latitude.” He handed over a folded slip of paper.
“Thank you, Mr. Phillips.” The captain accepted the note and slipped it into his pocket.
He did not read it.
About the Author
GORDON KORMAN
started writing novels when he was about the same age as the characters in this book, with his first novel,
This Can’t Be Happening at Macdonald Hall!,
published when he was fourteen. Since then, his novels have sold millions of copies around the world. Most recently, he is the author of
Swindle, Zoobreak,
and
Framed,
the trilogies Island, Everest, Dive, and Kidnapped, and the series On the Run. His other novels include
No More Dead Dogs
and
Son of the Mob.
He lives in New York with his family, and can be found on the web at www.gordonkorman.com.
LOOK FOR MORE ADVENTURE FROM
GORDON KORMAN
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Copyright © 2011 by Gordon Korman.
COVER ART BY VASILIJE RISTOVIC
PHOTO: RICHARD WHITE /CORBIS
DESIGN BY TIM HALL
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First printing, May 2011
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eISBN 978-0-54538848-1