Abel Zachariah’s nearest neighbor was Edward Norman, commonly known as Skipper Ed, a sailor-man who had come to the coast many years before in a fishing vessel, and when his vessel sailed away Skipper Ed had remained behind to cast his lot with the Eskimos.  At the head of Abel’s bay and a mile from Abel’s home, he took up the life of hunter and fisherman, and in due time learned to speak the Eskimo language.  Here Skipper Ed lived with his little partner, as he called him—­Jimmy Sanderson, a husky lad of seven years.

Jimmy was an orphan.  His mother died when he was so young that he could scarcely remember her at all.  His father, a Newfoundland sailor and fisherman, was one of the crew of a fishing schooner that sailed regularly each summer to this part of the Labrador coast, and because there was no one at home to care for him after his mother’s death, Jimmy always accompanied his father on these voyages.  And thus it came about that when Seaman Sanderson fell overboard while reefing the jib, one stormy day, Jimmy was left alone in the world.

It so happened that on the day Jimmy’s father was lost, the schooner, with the forlorn little boy on board, took refuge under the lee of the island upon which Skipper Ed had his fishing camp.  Skipper Ed, after the manner of the Coast, rowed his boat alongside and climbed aboard, to hear such scraps of news from the outside world as the sailors might bring, and to enjoy their company for an hour.  Here he met Jimmy, heartbroken and weeping at the loss of his father.  Skipper Ed’s sympathies went out to the wretched little boy, and placing his big hand on Jimmy’s small shoulder, he comforted him.

“There, there, now, lad, don’t cry,” said he.  “You’re a wee bit of a lad to be left alone in the world I know, but by the mercy of God you’ll forget your trouble, for Time’s a wonderful healer.  And there’s better luck coming, lad, better luck coming.”

Thereupon he sought out the Captain of the schooner and inquired into Jimmy’s worldly prospects.

“There’s none to care for him,” said the Captain, “and the best prospects he have be the poor house.”

“Will you leave him with me, then?” asked Skipper Ed.  “I’ll give the lad a good home, and teach him a bit, and he’ll be fine company for me.”

“O’ course I’ll leave he with you, Skipper, and wonderful glad I’ll be too that the lad’s found a good home,” said the Captain.

Then Skipper Ed returned to Jimmy.

“Lad,” said he, “I’m looking for a partner, and it strikes me you’ll do.  How’d you like to be my partner?  Look me over now, and see what you think of me.  How’d you like me for a partner?”

Jimmy looked him over critically, through tear-stained eyes, but said nothing.

“Come now,” urged Skipper Ed, getting down on his haunches that Jimmy might look straight into his face, “here we are, you and I, both alone in the world and both wanting partners.  Can’t we splice up a partnership?  Share and share alike, you know—­you have as much as I, and I have as much as you, and we’ll take the fair winds and the contrary winds together, and make port together, and sell our cargoes together, and use the same slop chest.  What do you say, lad?  Shall we sign on as partners?”