"Very well, sir," Riggins replied. "Might Hi arsk, Mr. Reardon, where
you hintend passin' the night?"

"I'll shleep in me auld aisy-chair abaft the house an' next the
funnel, where I'll be snug an' warrm," Mr. Reardon replied, for he
desired an excuse to be on deck all night without arousing the
suspicions of Mr. Schultz or von Staden.

The steward, having finished serving those who ate in the dining
saloon, stepped out on deck and started for his own room. Mr. Reardon
remained by the window a minute, discoursing on the curse of bedbugs
aboard a ship, and then with a sigh followed the steward leisurely.
Mr. Schultz appeared undecided whether or not to accompany him in the
capacity of censor, but finally concluded to remain and finish his
coffee, for if Riggins had decided to enlighten the chief as to the
real reason for the skipper's indisposition he had had frequent
opportunity to do so during the past ten days. It did not seem likely,
therefore, that he would run any risks at this late date. To Mr.
Schultz, Riggins appeared to be a man who could be depended upon to
remember which side his bread was buttered on and who supplied the
butter.

Arrived at the steward's state-room, Mr. Reardon helped himself to the
entire box of bedbug exterminator and addressed Riggins very briefly:

"Riggins, ye're a child av Johnny Bull, are ye not?"

Riggins, without the slightest trace of embarrassment, admitted his
disgrace.