After a few days, Jimmy had regained his strength and was able to drink liquids...but still unable to eat. Jack didn't want to force food down his throat, so day by day he gave him a little piece of bread or a dab of broth. Jack scooped up with his wooden spoon, a scoop of vegetable broth straight from the Venture's galley. "Come on, Jim...you have to eat some." Jack commanded. Jimmy sipped the broth off the spoon, Jack wiped the bits that had dribbled onto his chin. "That's the ticket, Jimmy...just like that." Jack smiled. Jimmy pushed the spoon away, and took Jack's hand and held it. "Mr.Driscoll, don't kill him...I may not like what he's done. But don't kill him." Jimmy said softly. Jack put his hand against Jimmy's cheek, his face was burning up...he dabbed a cloth against Jim's cheekbone. Then looked him in the eyes, solemnly. "I can't let him hurt you again...one more sip of coffee and you'll be ten feet under!" Jack explained in a soften tone. "My fever is going down, and I'll have my strength back soon...then we can dock in N.Y, and never come back!" Jimmy said hopefully. Jack hoped that Jimmy was right.
2 weeks later...
Jimmy woke up one morning, feeling cold all over...but somehow relieved. He saw Jack fell asleep holding his hand, he shook him by the shoulder...waking him almost insantly. Jack felt Jimmy's forehead and began laughing, he hugged Jimmy and started to cry. "Mr.Driscoll, what is it?" Jimmy asked. "It broke, Jimmy...your fever broke!" Jack laughed. "We can go to New York, right now." Jimmy smiled. "Sorry to say...you aren't going anywhere." a voice said. Jack and Jimmy saw Captian Englehorn standing at the door with a pistol in his hand...