With these escapades and a thousand others, Bobby kept his foster
parents pretty constantly varying between a state of suspense and a
state of joy, for they were vastly delighted when he emerged from an
adventure, usually not much the worse for his experience.

Bobby's age was, of course, a matter of conjecture. Abel and Mrs. Abel
must needs have a definite date set down as his birthday, in order that
it might be duly and appropriately celebrated each year, and as a
convenient date they chose December 1 of the year in which he came to
them as his fourth birthday. This was a date when the autumn seal hunt
would be finished, and the sea ice would be formed, when Abel might go
to Nain with the dogs and bring back some sweets or other surprise.

Upon this reckoning Bobby was eight and Jimmy was twelve years of age
when the two lads had their first real adventure together. It was in the
spring. A westerly wind had cleared the bay of ice, and Abel and Skipper
Ed had gone north in the big boat two days before for the spring seal
hunt, and were not expected back for a fortnight. Jimmy, during Skipper
Ed's absence, was stopping with Bobby and Mrs. Abel as usual, and the
two boys were out bright and early to haul a trout net which was set in
the mouth of a river which flowed into the bay not far away.

It was one of those ideal days which come now and again to that northern
country in spring, as though to emphasize by contrast the fact that the
long bleak winter is over. The sun shone brilliantly and the rippling
waves of the nearly placid bay sparkled and glinted alluringly, spicy
odors of the forest perfumed the air, and birds twittered gleefully.

"Let's go egging, Bobby," Jimmy suggested, as the boys, pulling