"Blest if I know," Dick replied, grinning. "You wouldn't have said she was in a good temper from the start, and then she went off like a packet of crackers 'cause I said her father snored. And he does snore, too!"
"Snore—why, man alive, he's like an engine!" said the doctor. "He went to sleep in the smoking-room the other day, and before long he'd cleared the room. Snored 'em clean out. How could a man of his build fail to snore, may I ask?"
"Well, he doesn't fail to," said Dick laughing.
"That is so, certainly. But I suppose that square-faced small daughter of his thought you were insulting him. Never mind, she'll get over it. Come for a walk. You ought to do a mile round the deck three times a day at least. Passengers who do that never develop livers!"
"I don't think I have one," Dick grinned.
"Continue in that belief, if you can, my son, and then you won't make any doctor's fortune. There's disinterested advice for you!" The doctor set off round the deck with long strides, so that to keep up gave Dick no little exertion. They pounded along, too fast for conversation. The deck was sprinkled with passengers now, and at every moment new heads appeared, coming up the companion ladders. There was no sign of Merle, but presently they encountered Mrs. Warner, with a five-year-old boy, and stopped to greet her.
"Good morning," said the doctor. "And how's my friend Bobby?"
"Vezzy well," said Bobby, solemnly. He looked at Dick with interest. "Is you the new boy?"
"I expect so," Dick replied.
"Merle says you is a beast. Is you?"