Mr. Schultz, the first assistant, and Mr. von Staden were engaged in
coffee and repartee when Terence Reardon thrust his head in at the
dining saloon window. He was mildly excited.

"Be the Great Gun av Athlone!" he declared. "I've just been bit be a
bedbug--an' I t'ought there wasn't a bedbug in the ship!"

Mr. Schultz looked up, horrified. "Chieve," he said, "dot is rodden
news. Bedbugs! _Ach!_"

"An' well you may '_Ach_,' Misther Schultz. Let a colony av bedbugs
move into the _Narcissus_ an' Terence P. Reardon will move out.
There's only wan thing to do, Misther Schultz, an' that is to tackle
the divils before we're overwhelmed be the weight av numbers. Have ye
a bit av sulphur in yer shtore-room, Misther Schultz--the kind that
comes in balls an' is used to burrn in shtate-rooms to kill bedbugs?"

When Terence Reardon put that innocent query to the first mate he knew
very well Mr. Schultz would reply in the negative--which he did--for
the reason that Michael J. Murphy had privately informed Mr. Reardon
that the little cockney steward, Riggins, had charge of the bedbug
ammunition. Riggins, who had been standing with his back against the
wall, eyeing Mr. Schultz sourly, now spoke up and said he had some
sulphur.

"More power to ye, Riggins!" Mr. Reardon declared heartily. "Then do
ye, like the good lad, give me two or three balls av it. I'll burn
them in me shtate-room to-night, wit' the door an' window locked, an'
be morrnin' sorra bedbug will be left alive."