Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
a cook. What it got was a piping-voiced We picked up our new cook on Phobos. Not Phoebus or Phoebe I mean Phobos, Mars' inner moon. Our regular victual mangler came down with acute indigestion—tasted some of his own cooking, no doubt—when we were just one blast of a jet-tube out of Sand City spaceport. But since we were rocketing under sealed orders, we couldn't turn back. "Mister Dugan," he said, "go out and find us a cook!" "Aye, sir!" I said, and went. Only it wasn't that easy. In those days, Phobos had only a handful of settlers, and most of them had good-paying jobs. Besides, we were at war with the Outer Planets, and no man in his right senses wanted to sign for a single-trip jump on a rickety old patrolship bound for nobody-knew-where. And, of course, cooks are dime-a-dozen when you don't need one, but when you've got to locate one in a hurry they're as difficult to find as petticoats in a nudist camp. I tried the restaurants and the employment agencies, but it was no dice. I tried the hotels and the tourist homes and even one or two of the cleaner-looking joy-joints. Again I drew a blank. So, getting desperate, I audioed a plaintive appeal to the wealthy Phobosian a chef's services to the good old I.P.S., but my only response was a can't seem to find a cook on the whole darned satellite." we've got to have a cook, Dugan! We can't go on without one!" "In a pinch," I told him, " I might be able to boil a few pies, or scramble us a steak or something, Skipper." "Thanks, Dugan, but that won't do. On this trip the men must be fed regularly and well. Makeshift meals are O.Q. on an ordinary run, but family ... bring about a new age of prosperity and happiness." "If," Cap O'Hara reminded me, "we succeed. But it's a tough job. We can't expect to win through the enemy cordon unless our men are in top find a cook, or—" "The search," interrupted an oddly high-pitched, but not unpleasant at us impatiently. "Well," he repeated impatiently, "where is it?" The Old Man stared. here to be your new cook." O'Hara said, "The new—What's your name, mister?" "you don't look like much of a cook to fellow, "are a cook?" "One of the best!" he claimed complacently. "You're willing to sign for a blind journey?" "Would I be here," he countered, "if I weren't?" I said quickly, "If you don't mind, sir, this is no time to worry over trifles. 'Any port in a storm,' you know. And if this young man can cook—" you're right, Dugan. All right, Slops, you're hired. The galley's hour. Get going! Dugan, call McMurtrie and tell him we lift gravs "If I were you," interrupted our diminutive new chef thoughtfully, "I'd Mr. Dugan! "Take this—this culinary tactician out of my sight before I forget I'm he said apologetically, "I didn't mean any harm, Mr. Dugan. I was just you take care of the cooking and let the rest of us worry about the ship—Captain Slops!" And I left, banging the door behind me hard. So we hit the spaceways for Vesta, and after a while the Old Man called up the crew and told them our destination, and if you think they were Only one member of the crew was absent from the conclave. Our new Slops. He was busy preparing midday mess, it seems, because scarcely call rose from the galley: "Soup's on! Come and get it!" Which we did. And whatever failings "Captain Slops" might have, he had not exaggerated when he called himself one of the best cooks in He rang the bell that summoned Slops from the galley, and the little Accept my congratulations on a superb meal, my boy. Did you find "So? Well, speak up, son, what is it? I'll get it fixed for you right "Well, sir," confessed Slops reluctantly, "I need an incinerator in Our little chef's face fell. "Now, that's too bad," he said discouragedly. "I was planning a special banquet for tomorrow, with roast marsh-duck and all the fixings, pinberry pie—but, oh, well!—if I have no incinerator—" "We-e-ell, now, Mr. Dugan, let's not be too technical. After all, that up the old Nolan in the galley for incineration purposes. Did you say the fixings, Slops?" "Yes, Captain, all the fixings. I'll start cooking the meal as soon as the new incinerator is installed." thorough cleaning. The way he was oiling and scrubbing at that antique at the Martian baths? Well, it seems this perennial spinster wandered, by accident, into the men's shower room and met up with a brawny young old maid got flustered and said, 'Oh, I'm sorry! I must be in the wrong "If you don't mind, Mr. Dugan," interrupted the cook loudly, "I'm something I've got to get from stores." And without even waiting to hear the wallop at the end of my tale he fled from the galley, very So there was one for the log-book! Not only did our emergency chef lack who ever cut a throat on Venus was "High G" Gordon, who talked like a "Runt" Hake—who wore diamond ear-rings and gold fingernail polish! When just for a lark we begged him to boil us a pot of spaghetti, so we could pour a cold worm's nest into Rick Bramble's bed, he shuddered and refused. "Certainly not!" he piped indignantly. "You must be out of your minds! I never heard of such a disgusting trick! Of course, I won't be a party dreams and goose-flesh!" Nor was hypersensitiveness Slops' worst failing. If he was squeamish about off-color jokes and such stuff, he had no compunctions whatsoever against sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. He was an inveterate prowler. He snooped everywhere and anywhere from ballast-bins to bunk-rooms. He quizzed the Chief about engine-room he created enough of it! "It's a mistake to broach the blockade at Vesta," he argued over and over again. that morning well, because I was in the mess-hall having breakfast with Cap O'Hara, and Slops was playing another variation on the old familiar "Eh?" The chef looked startled. "Beg pardon, sir?" sailing all the way to Callisto." "But—but if there should be more than one, sir?" "Don't be ridiculous, my boy. Why should there be?" "Well, for one thing," wrangled our pint-sized cook, "because rich lion now, his breakfast completely forgotten. "Give me a sensible Bramble were in the turret, and they were both good sailors. They knew hastily converted into an all-way, inter-ship communicating unit, came ! Calling the captain of the can't sacrifice brave men in a useless cause, Dugan. I've got to—" He It was then that Andy Laney, who had lingered in the galley doorway to fulfil, an important one. Corpses can't run errands." greet it. Our secret would be discovered, Callisto occupied by the

<question>:
How did Dugan find a new cook?

<options>:
A He didn't
B He appealed to the colonists
C He tried employment agencies
D He tried hotels and tourist homes

<answer>:

A