Mr. Schultz marvelled that any man could force his mind to dwell on
red lead, leaky pipe connections, sulphur and bedbugs in a ship like
the _Narcissus_ at a time like this. He had met a few innocents in his
day, but this Irish engineer was most innocent of all.

"Sure, Mike!" he replied, and grinned at his feeble play on words.
"_Und_ as I gannot leave der bridge yet, here iss der key to der
store-room. Helb yourself, mine _Freund, und_ den gif me der key
back."

"Ye addie-pated son of sin!" Mr. Reardon soliloquized as he took the
key and departed. "Faith, a booby birrd has more sinse nor you! D'ye
suppose I didn't wait until ye were on djooty before axin' ye, well
knowin' ye'd lind me the key an' I'd be alone in yer shtore-room!"

Mr. Reardon was in the store-room less than two minutes. When he
emerged he carried a daub of red lead on an old spoon, as Mr. Schultz,
looking down on the dimly lighted main deck, observed. What he did not
observe, however, was the chief's action in tossing the spoon
overboard the instant he passed beyond the range of Mr. Schultz's
vision. It is probable, also, that the mate would have been disturbed
could he have seen Mr. Reardon in his state-room, with the door
locked, removing from beneath his dungaree jumper several fathoms of
light, strong, cotton signal halyard, two five-foot lengths of
half-inch steel chain, and a strip of canvas. His pockets also gave up
two padlocks, with keys to fit. This loot Mr. Reardon very carefully
hid in the space under his settee, after which, with due thanks, he
returned the key to Mr. Schultz.