At Peter's direction the Lost Boys formed two lines, the front kneeling, the back standing.
"Steady, boys," he soothed. "Let's show them the white light we're made from."
The pirates came on, howling. The Pan sword lifted.
"Front row-dazzle!" Peter cried.
Up rose a line of mirrors, catching the rising sun's brilliant light and sending it squarely back into the eyes of the attacking pirates. They squinted hopelessly, blinded by the glare. Pirates crashed into one another and tumbled down.
Then Ace appeared at the forefront of the Lost Boys holding a fearsome-looking cannon on which had been mounted a cage filled with squawking chickens. Ace swung the muzzle about, directing it at the pirates. Eggs shot out of the muzzle, splattering into the pirates, knocking them back. As fast as the chickens could lay, the eggs were fired. Yolks spat from the weapon in yellow streams. Eggshells ejected with a clatter. Faster lay the chickens and faster came the eggs.
And now the worst. Ace stepped back and the Lost Boy line re-formed. Bamboo tubes were lifted to shoulders, hand pumps were engaged, and streams of marbles caromed into the pirates and onto the deck. Feet skidded and pirates went down in a pile, arms and legs flailing.
More pirates appeared suddenly from the darkness of the tunnel, summoned by Smee's bell. They charged into the light, weapons drawn, shouting fiercely. But the Lost Boys were waiting. Two lines faced them. The front knelt with shoulder-braced Cataspluts drawn back. As the back dropped rotten tomatoes in place, the Cataspluts released. Once, twice, a third time. Pirates tumbled back, blinded and choking. Pirates slipped and slid into tangled heaps. When one misguided bunch attempted a frontal assault on the gangway, Thud Butt wrapped himself into a ball and the Lost Boys rolled him down the ramp, scattering the pirates like tenpins.
Rufio and a handful of Lost Boys had pried open the grating of the main hatch. As fast as pirates were captured, they were bundled up and rolled into the hold, cursing all the way. Bruised, egg-soaked, and tomato-splattered, Hook's crew was fast disappearing from view. Those who weren't shoved through the hatchways spilled down the gangplank onto the docks. Everywhere, the battle was being lost.
On the quarterdeck, Hook watched with a mix of despair and rage. Nothing was going as he had intended. "Smee," he wailed, "do something intelligent!"
Smee, not hesitating a moment, bolted into the captain's cabin. Hook glared. Very hard to get good help these days, he thought darkly.
He started for the quarterdeck stairs, determined that someone should pay for this injustice, and came face-to-face with Rufio.
"Hook!" the leader of the Lost Boys hissed.
Hook smiled and beckoned him on.
But then Peter was between them, having flown up from the main deck, the Pan sword cocked. "No, Rufio," he declared. "Hook's mine."
And the redoubtable captain might well have been, except that in the next instant Peter heard a familiar voice cry out from the docks below. "Jack! Jack! Help!"
"Maggie!" Peter cried out in recognition and off he flew again.
Down on the docks, the jailer whom Hook had entrusted with looking after Maggie and the slave kids had come to the conclusion that things weren't going the captain's way. Since his fearless leader was otherwise occupied at the moment and the path out of town seemed unobstructed, he decided now was a good time to think about saving himself.
But not without a little something to see to his future needs, of course.
He slipped the iron key he wore about his neck into the lock and released it, pushing open the door. A fierce scowl greeted the anxious faces of the slave kids clustered before him, sending the pack of them scurrying.
"Jack! Jack!" one little girl called wildly from the window.
"Slag off, ye little sodder!"he growled at her. "I'll be just long enough to claim my fair share and then-''
He stopped in his tracks. Another slave kid was in the process of throwing a rope braided from old curtains out the window. "Here! Where do you think you're going? Get away from that window!"
The slave kid raced for safety and the front room emptied as the bunch of them fled into the recesses of the back. Only the girl was left, still yelling for help. He snatched her up and dragged her away.
Peter flew in just behind him, landing in a skid, coming face-to-face with a second pirate who appeared at the same instant through another door. The second pirate gave Peter a single glance and dove back the way he had come.
Peter charged ahead into the second room. The jailer dropped Maggie like a sack of hot coals and whirled about.
Maggie's eyes went wide. "Daddy?"
Peter was after the jailer instantly, chasing him about a monstrous globe, giving it a spin as he passed. "Small world, isn't it?" he observed, tickling the fellow's breast bone with the tip of his sword.
The frantic jailer flattened himself protectively against a Greek statue, but Peter was behind him almost before he could think. A shove toppled the statue and pinned the hapless pirate to the floor.
Maggie wheeled into Peter's arms.
"Daddy!" she cried gleefully.
He picked her up and swung her about joyfully, then hugged her to him. "I love you so much," he whispered.
"I love you, too," she murmured back.
"I'll never lose you again."
"Stamp me, mailman."
He kissed her on the forehead as Latchboy and half a dozen other Lost Boys rushed into the room.
Peter waved in greeting. "This is my daughter, Maggie," he announced, setting her down again.
"Hi," Maggie greeted.
"Hi," the Lost Boys greeted back, looking doubtful.
Peter was already moving toward the door. "You'll be safe with them until I get back, Maggie," he called over his shoulder. "I have to get Jack. Boys, guard her with your lives."
He gave them a hurried salute and rose into the air.
Latchboy and the others barely saw him leave, their eyes fixed on Maggie. Finally Latchboy whispered, "Are you really a girl?"
The Lost Boys were sweeping the decks of the Jolly Roger clean of the few pirates who remained, battening down the main hatch on those who had been captured, and chasing the rest down the gangplank and over the sides. Even Tickles was gone, relieved of his concertina and harried from the ship by Don't Ask. Thud Butt, tired of rolling down rampways, had secured his beloved Four-Way Stop. Working his way into the midst of one pirate melee after another with the bizarre weapon, he had fixed its sight, pulled its trigger, and released a foul-smelling liquid from its four directional tubes into the faces of bewildered pirates, leaving them stunned and gasping for air.
Inside Hook's cabin, Smee was busily gathering up the captain's most valuable treasures and stuffing them into his pants.
"What about Smee?" he said over and over. "It's time for Smee. Yes, it is."
A knot of pirates and Lost Boys burst through the cabin door, fighting as they came, tumbling the furniture and furnishings every which way. Smee shrank from them, hiding behind a Red Cross flag he had confiscated. When a pair of pirates came too close with their weapons, he dropped the flag over their heads, stealing a gold earring from one while doing so.
"Pretty, pretty," he murmured, testing the gold with his teeth as he moved toward the door, his pants and carry bag brimming with loot.
On reaching the far wall he paused at a statue of Hook, twisted the captain's nose, and popped open a peephole.
Can't be too careful, he thought.
Cautiously, he peered out.
Hook stood at the forefront of the quarterdeck, squared off once more with Rufio, his eyes red and dangerous. Jack was behind him, secured between Jukes and Noodler.