It was a relief to know their position. And yet, how much danger lurked before them? Ships going north pass between Isle Royale and Passage Island. Should they find themselves in the path of a freighter the black waters of the night might swallow up their smashed boat. Their fate would never be known. They were headed for Passage Island. But could they find the entrance to that harbor?
“Katie,” Florence said, “how wide is it?”
“Is what?” Katie demanded.
“The entrance to that harbor.”
“Twenty feet, I think,” Katie replied.
“Twenty feet!” Florence thought this but did not say it. Could they find such an entrance in the dark and could they, with waves mounting high, make that entrance? It seemed to her all but impossible.
A sudden feeling of rebellion swept over her. Here she was taking a day off, trying to have a good time. For weeks she had worked hard with little or no hope of reward. She had worked for the good of others. And now—
“It’s not fair!” she whispered. “Not fair at all.” Her fists clenched tight, she looked out over the black waters where white crests of foam played.
One moment more and she was in a different mood. What was it, after all, that she had asked of life? Thrills, adventure, suspense, mystery, that was it. Happy adventure. Well, she had known all these.
“And this,” she told herself stoutly, “shall be just one more happy adventure.”