He was Mrs.Cromwell's only son and his father had been a sea captain.
We say, had been, for the _Bluebell_ had been wrecked some time before and all in Sea Cove thought the captain dead--all saving Mrs.Cromwell, who still hoped for his safe return--hoping, as it were, against hope.
Years before the Cromwells had been rich, owning four large trading vessels.

But bad luck had come and continued until the fortune dwindled down to nothing but the ownership of the old _Bluebell_.

It was then that the captain had determined on a voyage to Alaska, taking with him a party of men who wished to explore the new gold mines in that territory.
The _Bluebell_ was supposed to have gone down in sight of the coast and only two of the survivors had thus far returned.
As time went by the little cottage, a poor affair at the best, was mortgaged to pay outstanding debts.

It was the last of the Cromwell belongings.
Bob worked at the docks, handling freight.

It was not what he had been brought up to, but it was the best employment he could obtain in the vicinity.
"I don't see what's to be done, Bob," said Mrs.Cromwell, during a lull in the storm.