Bernard Brooks' Adventures: The Experience of a Plucky Boy

“I dare say he is, but I don’t know much about him.”

“Don’t you?” asked the professor, showing some interest. “Isn’t he your guardian?”

“Yes, sir, but I have never spent much time with him.”

“Has he charge of much property of yours?”

“He says I have no property.”

“Ha, indeed! As a rule, guardians are not appointed unless there is property.”

“He was a friend – that is, an acquaintance of my father.”

“How long has your father been dead?”

“Ever since I was five years old.”

Now it occurred to Bernard to ask some questions. “Mr. McCracken told me you were interested in antiquities.”

“Yes – antiquities.”

“Have you written any works on the subject?”

“Yes, several,” answered the professor, with some hesitation.

“Have you any of them with you?”

“No.”

“I thought I should like to look them over if you had, and it might help qualify me for my duties.”

“I have no doubt you will answer my purpose,” said the professor, yawning, as if he did not feel much interest in the subject.

Bernard was rather disappointed. He wished the professor would talk to him on his specialty, as it would be interesting and instructive.

“Are we going to stay abroad long?” he asked.

“My plans are not fully formed,” said the professor. He gave the impression of not caring to talk on the subject, and Bernard took the hint, and ceased to question him. He found time hanging heavily on his hands, as he appeared to have no duties and thought it might be interesting to make some acquaintances on board the ship.

There were ten passengers besides Professor Puffer and himself. The first he became acquainted with was a thin, sallow-faced man who wore green glasses. What he was Bernard could not conjecture, but soon learned.

He was standing forward looking out at the white capped waves when a voice accosted him. “Young man, are you bilious?”

Opening his eyes in surprise, Bernard recognized the sallow-faced passenger.

“I don’t think I am,” he answered.

“I am Dr. Felix Hampton,” said his new acquaintance. “I have discovered a medicine which will effectually cure biliousness.”

“Indeed, sir! You will be a public benefactor, in that case.”

“True, young man. I feel that my work is a great one. Thousands will bless my name. I am going abroad to introduce my medicine in Europe. There must be thousands of bilious cases in London alone.”

“I presume you are right. Shall you establish yourself in London?”

“I cannot give myself to any one country. I shall endeavor to sell an interest in my medicine to some responsible party who will push it in Great Britain. Who is the red-faced man you are traveling with?”

“Professor Ezra Puffer.”

“What is he professor of?”

“I don’t know, sir. I believe he is interested in antiquities.”

“Is he bilious?”

“I haven’t known him long enough to tell.”

“Would you mind recommending my medicine to him?”

“I think you had better do so yourself. I don’t know anything about the medicine, you know.”

“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.”

“Did he ask you if you were bilious?”

“Yes, and offered me a dose of his medicine without charge.”

The other laughed. “He made me the same liberal offer. Neither you nor I look like bilious cases.”

“I should think not,”