“Apples, of course,” replied the injured cook. “What did you suppose it was?”
“Well, if those are apples then they’re flavored with something funny,” declared Tom. “Where’s the can you used?”
Dick brought two empty tin cans up to the table, which was made from packing boxes.
“The paper labels soaked off,” he explained, “but there were cans of apples on top and below these so I thought it was all right. Isn’t it?”
Tom took a smell, and cried out:
“Say, fellows, he dumped a can of quinces in the apple pie stuff and baked that all together and then used baking soda for powdered sugar! Oh wow! What a taste!”
There was a general laugh, and Dick replied with:
“Well, if you fellows think you can do any better you can have my job. I’m sick of being cook.”
“Tut, tut! It’s all right,” said Tom hastily. “We were only fooling. You’re doing fine, Dick, only, after this, smell of a can if it hasn’t got a label pasted on it, and taste the powdered sugar.”