Chapter 30

THE MYSTERY CLEARED

How slowly those last days dragged away! Bobby could scarcely restrain his impatience. But one day in the middle of July Itigailit Island was sighted, and that evening the _Gull_ anchored in its lee. Abel Zachariah had not come out to his fishing yet, and the island was bare and deserted. Bobby's emotion nearly got the better of him when he remembered that stormy winter's day when he had last been here, with Skipper Ed and Jimmy.

They launched a motor boat with which they had provided themselves, and went ashore for a half hour, while Bobby pointed out Abel's landing place, and the place where they always pitched their tent, and where the snow _igloo_ had stood. The seals were gone, so Bobby knew Skipper Ed and Abel had hauled them home before the ice broke up.

And then Bobby took his friends to see the grave, and the cairn he had built over it, and for a little they stood, in silence and in pity for the nameless man who lay there.

Day comes early in this latitude at this season, and at two o'clock, in the morning twilight, anchor was weighed, sails hoisted before a good fair breeze, and the _Gull_ was plowing her way into Abel's Bay, with Bobby as pilot, for he knew its waters as you and I know our city streets. And what old friends the distant mountains and headlands seemed, as he pointed them out to his companions!

It was mid-afternoon when the _Gull_ at last approached the head of Abel's Bay, and in the distance the two cabins gradually came into view. Skipper Ed's cabin was the nearer, and their course was laid toward it, and presently two figures were discerned at the boat landing.

"That's the Skipper on the left!" exclaimed Bobby. "I know him because he's so tall! The other must be Father, but he doesn't look like Father, either!"

And then, standing intently gazing at the men, he suddenly shouted:

"It's Jimmy! Oh, it's Jimmy! He was saved! He was saved! He was saved! Oh, thank God, he was saved!"

And in spite of himself tears of joy sprang to Bobby's eyes, and he leaned over the rail and shouted and shouted, and waved his hat, and at last Skipper Ed and Jimmy heard, and they knew his voice, and they too shouted and waved their hats, in no less excitement and joy than Bobby.

Presently the _Gull's_ sails were run down, her chains rattled, and she was at anchor. As quickly as might be the launch, which was in tow, was drawn alongside, and Bobby, with Mr. and Mrs. Winslow and Edward Norman, were chugging toward the landing, where the two eager men stood to greet them.

It would be quite impossible to describe the joy of the greeting, and the explanations and the reunion that followed. As quickly as he could do so Bobby, with Jimmy to accompany him, ran away to make glad the hearts of Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, who greeted him as he knew they would, and who believed they had never been so happy in their life. And embracing Bobby, Mrs. Abel cried over him, and they both declared that God was better to them than they deserved.

Skipper Ed was indeed the long lost Edward Norman. His brother, young Edward's father, had confessed shortly after Edward's disappearance all that had taken place. He was forgiven and made restitution, and had never again gambled. Several years later he and his wife were lost at sea, with Mr. and Mrs. Winslow's little son.

It had happened many years before. Robert Norman, Skipper Ed's brother, was invited, with his wife and Mr. and Mrs. Winslow, to cruise in a friend's yacht. Mrs. Winslow falling ill was unable to go, and therefore Mr. Winslow also declined the invitation. Robert and his wife urged, however, that the Winslows' little son, who was a namesake of Robert and of whom they were exceedingly fond, be permitted to accompany them. The child had been in poor health, and upon the recommendation of their physician consent was finally given. Edward, who was attending school at the time, was not of the party.

The yacht had voyaged northward, stopping for several days at various ports from which letters were received. Finally a letter from Sydney, Nova Scotia, stated that the party had decided upon a still more northerly cruise, and for a little while might not be in touch with the mails. That was the last that was ever heard of the yacht or any one on board.

And so for a full three hours they talked of home, and sorrowed over long-ago partings and the dead, and rejoiced over their reunion and the living, until Skipper Ed suggested that they all pay their respects to Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, and complained that he had hardly seen Bobby at all, and that they had not become properly acquainted with his partner, who had run off to Abel's with Bobby, which was quite to be expected under the circumstances, for the two boys were like brothers.

Because it was easier for Mrs. Winslow than the rough and wet path, they chugged over in the motor boat, and were met at the landing by Abel and Mrs. Abel, who saw them coming and ran down to meet them, with much good-natured laughter, and ushered them into the cabin where, after the hospitable fashion of the country, they were called upon to drink tea.

"Bobby," suggested Mr. Winslow, when they had risen from the table, "I'm immensely interested in what you told me about yourself. May we not see the package of which you spoke? It might throw some light upon your parentage."

And when Bobby told Mrs. Abel that the visitors had requested to see the little clothes he wore when they found him, she and Abel were greatly pleased, for they were proud of Bobby, and without delay she opened the chest in which she kept her treasures and brought forth a neatly wrapped package, which she delivered to Mr. Winslow.

For many years the package had not been opened. It was covered with cloth, and tied with a buckskin thong. Mr. Winslow placed it on the table, and as he undid it the others grouped themselves around him.

On the top of the package lay the little dress. He lifted it and shook it out and held it up for inspection, and then a strange thing happened. Mrs. Winslow, mildly curious, had been standing by Skipper Ed. Her face suddenly went white, she reached for the garment, examined it for a moment, and then exclaimed:

"Oh, my little Bobby! Oh, my little boy! That was his dress! It was his!"

There was excitement at once. Mrs. Winslow became so dizzy and faint that Skipper Ed sat her in a chair. Mr. Winslow's hand trembled as he examined the other articles of clothing. Then he opened the wallet in which Mrs. Abel had placed Bobby's little ring, for he had long since outgrown it.

"The ring Robert gave him on his third birthday, just before they left us!" said Mrs. Winslow, bursting into tears. "His name is in it--'Bobby.' Let me see it."

She was right. The identification was perfect. But none seemed yet to remember that the tall, handsome lad standing with them was the same Bobby. The parents were lost in the sorrowful yesterday and forgetful of the happy today, until Skipper Ed asked:

"What was the name of the yacht in which they were lost?"

"The _Wanderer_," said Mr. Winslow.

"The boat Bobby was found in was a yacht's boat, and it bore the name _Wanderer_. There's no doubt, I think, of the identification. Bobby, you scamp, why aren't you kissing your mother? Quick, now. And there's your own father, too; and don't forget I'm your old uncle."

Suddenly this brought the father and mother to a realization that this Bobby was their Bobby--their lost child--the boy they had so long mourned as dead--and they drew him to them and the mother wept over him, and fondled him and caressed him, and for a time there was so much confusion, with every one talking and nobody listening, that they quite forgot the notebook. But at last, when some order had been restored, Mr. Winslow opened it, and read. It contained some odds and ends of items, with a closing entry which cleared up much of the mystery of the _Wanderer_:

"At sea, in an open boat," it was dated.

"Two weeks ago the yacht _Wanderer_, when somewhere S.W. from the Greenland coast, collided in a dense fog with an iceberg. Her bow was stove in and she began to sink at once. The boats were immediately lowered and my wife and myself with our little nephew, Robert Winslow, and a sailor named Magee, succeeded in getting away in one of them, while the remainder of our party and crew were divided among three other boats. But in the dense fog we somehow became separated from them.

"Magee as he entered the boat seized my shotgun and a pouch of loaded shells, the only things within reach, and we saved nothing else. Fortunately the boats had been used on shore expeditions and ours was provisioned with a bag of sea biscuits and a quantity of water, and contained some blankets.

"On the day following the wreck my wife was taken ill, developing, I believe, pneumonia. On the fifth day she died. I would have kept her remains with us in the boat, but Magee insisted that she be buried at sea, claiming that the presence of her body would have a constantly depressing effect upon us. I offered a prayer and said an improvised burial service over her, we wrapped her in a blanket, and weighting her body with an anchor buried her. My heart went into the sea with her, and but for my young son at home and my little nephew, I would have wished to follow her.

"Yesterday Magee went mad. He began to talk wildly, and to brandish the loaded gun. I feared he would do injury with it, and endeavored to take it from him. In some manner it was discharged, and I was injured, I am well aware, fatally. I lost consciousness, and when I awoke today Magee was gone. In his frenzy he must have plunged overboard.

"My strength is nearly gone, and it is hard to hold a pencil. Should our boat by chance be discovered, let the finder communicate with Mr. Henry Winslow, Carrington, Massachusetts, and care for the little boy, who is his son. I commend the child to God's care, and as I die I pray God that my son Edward may grow to noble and Christian manhood--that he may possess as true and noble and Christian a character as my long-lost brother for whom he was named, the brother who sacrificed so much for me and him, and whom I wronged so deeply. God has forgiven me and I die in peace.

"Robert Norman."

It was difficult to read the final lines, for the pencil had wavered sadly, and it was evident that the entry had been finished with intense effort.

When Mr. Winslow at last laid aside the yellow old notebook there were no dry eyes, and for a little while all were silent. Then Edward took Skipper Ed's hand in a strong grasp.

"With God's help," said he, "I will live as my father wished, and always endeavor to be worthy his ideal."

* * * * *

But our story must end. I might relate how Bobby and Jimmy went to college, for Skipper Ed would not part from his partner. How the three always spent their summers with Abel Zachariah and Mrs. Abel, and provided for their comfort until in the fullness of years they went to their final rest; and how Edward erected a stone on Itigailit Island to his father's memory. But already our story has grown too long.

We may be sure in the busy years that followed, Bobby and Jimmy never forgot the cabins at Abel's Bay, nor the cozy hours in the easy chairs before the big box stove. Nor Skipper Ed's teaching: "Destiny is God's will."

THE END

The Wilderness Castaways

_By_

DILLON WALLACE

ILLUSTRATED BY H.S. WATSON

One of the "meatiest" stories for boys that has seen the light for many years. The tale of how two lads, one a self-reliant Newfoundlander, and the other an over-pampered New Yorker, went adrift in a fog on Hudson Bay and were forced to make their own living out of the wild in a sub-Arctic winter. It is full of adventure from first to last.--_Boston Globe_.

Full of hunting, of peril, and privation, and shows how a grim outdoors can transform the life of a self-centered youth. It is the work of a man who knows the heart of a boy, as well as the heart of the wilderness.--_Epworth Herald._

One of the best boys' stories published is this record of a spoiled New York lad and a sailor boy who became separated from a hunting party. Their adventures, and the change wrought in the selfish city lad are told with a vividness and sense of humor which will appeal at once to the boy reader or any other.--_American Tourist_.

The story is brimful of exciting incidents, and will be numbered among the boy readers' favorites.--_San Francisco Bulletin_.

Mr. Wallace has made a gripping story, and held up manliness and courage in an attractive light--_Boston Journal._

In this book two boys make good, and that is a mighty good thing to present in any book for boys.--_Baltimore Sun._

12mo. $1.25

A.C. McCLURG & COMPANY

PUBLISHERS-CHICAGO-ILLINOIS

The Fur Trail Adventurers

_By_

DILLON WALLACE

ILLUSTRATED BY E.W. DEMING

The story is told with a realism that is a result of Mr. Wallace's long experience in the northland. It is one of the best books that could be given to a boy of twelve or fourteen, and one of the most acceptable.--_Chicago Daily News._

Like all his others, it is intensely interesting, the style vivid, the ideas high and elevating, and the whole story clean and wholesome. All boys like his books and read them with eagerness.--_Christian Observer._

There is in it much of the woodcraft and outdoor life that boys are learning more and more to love, thanks to the scout movement. Dillon Wallace knows by experience what his boy readers like, and this is one of the best books he has written. It is well illustrated.--_Indianapolis News._

The author has written a thrilling tale in which is incorporated much real information about woodcraft and the outdoor life.--_Boston Globe._

To those who wish a library for boys, with some books of clean adventure in the woods and waters of the far north, this volume is indispensable.--_Sioux City Tribune._

A book of adventures written to satisfy the thirst of every young boy for the romance of the wilds.--_Chicago Examiner._

12mo. $1.25

A.C. McCLURG & COMPANY

PUBLISHERS-CHICAGO-ILLINOIS

The Long Labrador Trail

_By_

DILLON WALLACE

ILLUSTRATED BY PHOTOGRAPHS

"It's always the way, Wallace! When a fellow starts on the long trail, he's never willing to quit. It'll be the same with you if you go with me to Labrador. When you come home, you'll hear the voice of the wilderness calling you to return, and it will lure you back again."

It was Leonidas Hubbard, the heroic explorer, who spoke these words to Dillon Wallace when they were lying by a camp fire in the snow-covered Shawangunk mountains where they planned the trip that cost them indescribable suffering, and Hubbard his life.

"The work must be done, Wallace, and if one of us falls before it is completed the other must finish it."

Wallace returned to keep the compact, and "The Long Labrador Trail" is the story of marvelous adventure, discovery, and brilliant description of the exploration of the land that lured, the hitherto unknown country, where the Eskimo builds his _igloo_ and hunts the walrus and the seal.

The story is one of brave and successful exploration, of interesting anecdote, of human feeling, with scientific accuracy characterizing the fund of information, and many photographs illuminating the text.

Crown 8vo. $1.50

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Beyond the Mexican Sierras

_By_

DILLON WALLACE WITH PHOTOGRAPHS AND A MAP

With the intense interest in Mexico which now obtains everywhere, this fascinating volume attains to new values.

"There is no area of equal extent that can approach Mexico in wealth of natural resources, variety of climate, grandeur of scenery, prehistoric ruins, and romantic history," writes the author in his Introduction.

"Here you witness the incomparable scenery of an old, new land with its snow-clad peaks, its magnificent mountain heights, its awe-inspiring canyons, its vast plains, its picturesque villages, its ancient ruins, its historic towns, and quaint corners.

"Within the borders of our neighbor republic there is a territory one-quarter as large as the United States, with a coast line of six thousand miles. In Mexico practically every product of the soil of the tropical and temperate zones can be grown to perfection. Here are vast primordial forests, and incalculable wealth of minerals."

This story of travel and exploration, with its fine descriptions of the life of the people, history, and resources, possesses unfailing value and interest. A large folding map accompanies the many photographs.

Crown 8vo. $2.00

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