“Never hear of heem,” stated Blanchard, flatly.

“You must have. It’s on this equipment-sheet in plain, clear type. Offog, one, it says. It was here when we were fitted-out four years ago. We checked it ourselves and signed for it.”

“I signed for nossings called offog,” Blanchard denied. “In the cuisine zere is no such sing.”

“Look!” McNaught scowled and showed him the sheet.

Blanchard looked and sniffed disdainfully. “I have here zee electronic oven, one of. I have jacketed boilers, graduated capacities, one set. I have bain marie pans, seex of. But no offog. Never heard of heem. I do not know of heem.” He spread his hands and shrugged. “No offog.”

“There’s got to be,” McNaught insisted. “What’s more, when Cassidy arrives there’ll be hell to pay if there isn’t.”

“You find heem,” Blanchard suggested.

“You got a certificate from the International Hotels School of Cookery. You got a certificate from the Cordon Bleu College of Cuisine. You got a certificate with three credits from the Space-Navy Feeding Center,” McNaught pointed out. “All that-and you don’t know what an offog is.”

“Nom d’un chien!” ejaculated Blanchard, waving his arms around. “I tell you ten t’ousand time zere is no offog. Zere never was an offog. Escoffier heemself could not find zee offog of vich zere is none. Am I a magician perhaps?”

“It’s part of the culinary equipment,” McNaught maintained. “It must be because it’s on page nine. And page nine means its proper home is in the galley, care of the head cook.”

“Like hail it does,” Blanchard retorted. He pointed at a metal box on the wall. “Intercom booster. Is zat mine?”

McNaught thought it over, conceded, “No, it’s Burman’s. His stuff rambles all over the ship.”

“Zen ask heem for zis bloody offog,” said Blanchard, triumphantly.

“I will. If it’s not yours, it must be his. Let’s finish this checking first. If I’m not systematic and thorough Cassidy will jerk off my insignia.” His eyes sought the list. “V1099. Inscribed collar, leather, brass studded, dog, for the use of. No need to look for that. I saw it myself five minutes ago.” He ticked the item, continued, “V1100. Sleeping basket, woven reed, one of.”