One more moment passed into eternity, then another flash and she knew. About them was only black water flecked with foam. They had drifted past the mile-long island without finding the gap. They could not go back. They must go on. Where to?
Florence buried her face in her hands and tried to think, but her thoughts, like the sky and sea, were one mad whirl.
CHAPTER XX
A WEIRD RESTING PLACE
Rain came sweeping down upon the sea. This flattened out the waves but added greatly to their misery. The wind raced on. Riding with it they moved forward into the great dark unknown.
Just when Florence was ready to give up hope her keen ears caught again the sound of waves rushing over rocks.
“One more shore!” she exclaimed. “Is there another island?”
“No other island,” Katie’s voice was solemn, “only rocks.”
“Yes,” Florence thought as a fresh chill ran up her spine, “there are rocks.”
She remembered it now. She had seen them rising above the water. One was called Gull Rock. Sportsmen went there to fish. Were they approaching Gull Rock? And if they were? She found little comfort in such thoughts. The waves were still running high.
Forcing her mind away from the immediate terror, she thought of Dave and Jeanne, of Mike and Tony and the mysterious boy in the crimson sweater hiding away in the forests. Did he truly set the fires? If he did what was his motive? No one had seen him even close enough to know how he looked. Would Mike and Tony catch him? Would—