"Steward," she said, "do you know which is Mr. Fraser's cabin?"
"Not in my lot," said the steward carelessly. "You don't know 'is number, by any chance?"
"No."
"Well, I dunno. Ask some of the other stewards—or the purser'd tell you, of course."
Merle's courage was fast oozing away; to tackle the purser, a mysterious and terrible individual of great power, was a task beyond her. She dived into her pocket and produced a bright half-crown.
"You find out for me," she said, proffering the coin, which the steward pocketed with an adroitness born of long habit. "It's very important; I've got to know soon. I'll come down after breakfast, and you tell me and I'll give you another."
"Right-oh!" said the steward, with a new respect for a small girl who could distribute half-crowns with such large ease. "I'll 'ave 'is number ready for you, miss."
Dick was better; a good night had made him inclined for breakfast, and he was longing to get out into the fresh air, even if people did look at him. He kept Merle busy, running errands and telling him all about the passengers; and it was not until the nurses were ready to prepare him for going out that she was able to slip away and hurry down to her own cabin.
The steward met her, rather aggrieved.
"Nice little jig-saw puzzle you set me, miss!" he said. "Mr. Fraser, you says; well, there's seven Frasers on board! Now which is it?"