Marked the right way to go! That was it! That was what I remembered!

I dug up the journal as quickly as I could. In the article, I read about Robert’s trip to the tropical island . . . Yes! There it was!

When Robert had explored the island, he had used coconuts to mark the right way to go!

I opened the map. One of the dotted lines was marked with coconuts! That had to be the right path.

I had been right that the clue I needed was on one of the pages in my journal. I just picked the wrong page before.

It stopped snowing as I followed the coconut path on the map. It led me up a large mound of snow that gave me a view of the icy shore.

And that’s where I saw Robert, bobbing up and down in the water.

His lower half was covered by a refrigerator-sized block of ice. His head and chest stuck out of the top of the ice block, allowing him to breath. But his arms and legs were pinned inside the hunk of ice. He was trapped.

I couldn’t believe it. I’d done it! I’d found him! I’d had to come all the way to Antarctica, but I’d finally found a member of my family!

I raced down the other side of the mound, straight toward Robert.

As I ran, I thought of what I would say to him. I wanted to make a good first impression for once. So I tried to think of just the right thing to say to break the ice.

But then . . . the ice broke!

“WHHHULP!” I cried as the sheet of ice I was running down cracked and sent me sliding on my back with my legs in the air.

I clutched at the ice around me, but it was too slick. I couldn’t stop myself.

I was heading feet first right toward the freezing water.

“Hullo there!” shouted Robert cheerily as I slid toward him. “Not to be a bother, but you had better stop yourself before you splash in here, or I dare say you’ll end up an ice cube like me! How about you put your barking huge clodhoppers to good use!”

“MY WHAT?” I shouted.

“Your large feet,” said Robert. “Put them down to get some traction.”

I put my feet flat against the ice. I started to slow down. I stopped right at the water’s edge.

“Thanks!” I gasped.

“Jolly good of the old boys at the club to finally send an explorer to rescue me,” said Robert. “Even if you are a bit of a peculiar-looking one.”

“I get my looks from my dad,” I told him proudly. “But I’m no explorer.”

I told him my whole story.

I told him everything I’d written in here up to now (even the embarrassing parts — he was family, after all). I told him how I hitched a ride with Doratea so I could find him, because I was the son of Frankenstein’s Monster and was looking for my family. I told him how I was related to him through his father’s feet. “Which makes you my cousin,” I said.

Robert just looked at me. The only noise for miles was the lapping of the water on the ice.

That’s when I realized how crazy I must have sounded. I had just come halfway around the world (Or was it more than that? I didn’t even know!) to find him. And now he wouldn’t even believe we were related!

There was only one thing to do. I started untying my boots.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I want to show you my feet!” I said. “I can prove we’re related!”

He just looked at me, even more confused. “My dear boy, why would you do that?” he asked. “Of course we’re related!

“The very first person to ever find his way to this place was me.” He smiled proudly. “You, my boy, are the second. If that doesn’t prove you’ve got the blood of an explorer in you, I don’t know what will!”

I didn’t think I could feel any happier than I felt right then. Until I heard the familiar RMMMMMM of Doratea’s plane circling over the water!

Minutes later, the seaplane splashed down a hundred yards or so off shore. CRUNK! The cockpit door popped open and a rubber raft flopped out.

But Doratea didn’t jump out of the plane and onto the raft.

Fran did!