The Captain called his steward.
“Where did you get the bouillon you served—that last cup especially?” he asked.
“From the pantry just as usual, sir,” the man answered. “It was all served out from the same cauldron.”
“Any chance of any one getting at it?”
“Quite impossible, sir!”
Laura rose to her feet.
“Sorry,” she apologized, “I can’t eat anything. I’m off on deck.”
The Captain rose promptly.
“I’ll escort you, if I may,” he suggested.
Harris, too, rose from his place, after a final and regretful glance at the menu, and joined the others. The Captain, however, drew Laura’s arm through his as they reached the stairs, and Harris, with a little shrug of the shoulders, made his way to Quest’s stateroom. The Doctor, the Professor, Quest and Lenora were all gathered around two little tubes, which the criminologist was examining with an electric torch.