“Is he your father?”
“No, sir.”
The idea of being the son of Professor Puffer was quite repugnant to Bernard, and he answered promptly.
“You may be bilious without knowing it. If you will, come to my stateroom I will give you a teaspoonful of the medicine without charge.”
“Thank you, sir. I don’t care for it. If I were sick I would make up my mind to buy medicine, but I feel perfectly healthy. Do you use it yourself?”
“I did, but now I am entirely cured of the insidious disease.”
It struck Bernard that Dr. Hampton was singularly unhealthy in appearance, but this he kept to himself.
As he walked to another part of the deck he was accosted by a bright, healthy looking man of perhaps thirty-five, with a rosy face and a quick, alert manner.
“I see you have been talking with Dr. Hampton,” he said.
“I didn’t know that was his name.”