lained 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