She had come to the island to find peace. But she would also probe into a mystery.
As she neared the southern end of the island where stood the jungle of young cottonwood trees, she paused to look away at the ragged shore line. There, hanging above the rough boulders, was Snowball's fishing derrick. Like a slim, black arm, as if to direct the girl's search out to sea, it pointed away toward black waters.
"No! No!" Florence laughed low. "Not there. The mystery lies deep in the heart of this young forest."
Straight down the path she strode to find herself standing at last before that challenging door of massive oak.
"Ah!" she breathed. "At home. They can't deny it." Light was streaming through the great round eyes above her.
Her heart skipped a beat as she lifted a hand to rap on that door. What sort of people were these, anyway? What was she letting herself in for?
She had not long to wait. The door flew open. A flood of white light was released. And in that light Florence stood, open-mouthed, speechless, staring.
"Wa-all," came in a not unfriendly voice, "what is it y' want?"
"Aunt--Aunt Bobby!" Florence managed to stammer.
"Yes, that's me. And who may you be? Step inside. Let me have a look.
"Florence! My own hearty Florence!" The aged woman threw two stout arms about the girl's waist. "And to think of you findin' me here!"
For a moment the air was filled with exclamations and ejaculations. After that, explanations were in order.
If you have read _The Thirteenth Ring_, you will remember well enough that Aunt Bobby was a ship's cook who had cooked her way up and down one of the Great Lakes a thousand times or more, and that on one memorable journey she had acted as a fairy godmother to one of Florence's pals. Florence had never forgotten her, though their journeys had carried them to different ports.
"But, Aunt Bobby," she exclaimed at last, "what can you be doing here? And how did such a strange home as this come into being?"
"It's all on account of her." Aunt Bobby nodded toward a slim girl who, garbed in blue overalls, sat beside the box-like stove. "She's my grandchild. Grew up on the ship, she did, amongst sailors. Tie a knot and cast off a line with the best of them, she can, and skin up a mast better than most.