"What's wrong?" asked the Patrol Leader.
"I don't know," replied Hayes. "It doesn't seem quite right, somehow. Does it, sir?"
Mr. Graham, thus appealed to, was about to give his verdict when Findlay came into the cabin from the fo'c'sle.
"Ready for second course, sir? Hello! Not finished yet. Is there anything wrong?"
"I suppose, Jock," observed the Scoutmaster, "I suppose you did make the soup from the packet labelled 'pea soup'?"
"Yes, sir," replied Findlay, getting red in the face.
"I thought perhaps it might have been a packet of ground oyster-shells for chickens that the grocer had given you in mistake for pea flour."
Findlay tasted a spoonful of soup.
"It certainly is gritty, sir," he admitted. "All right, I'll bring the steak. Hang on to those plates, Hayes."
Hayes, who was nearest to the fo'c'sle door, took the pile of tin plates, as requested. He promptly dropped the lot.