"One of the very best kinds that grow."
"And you're sure that these are that kind?"
"Perfectly sure. Sarah and I used to gather them when we were children, didn't we, Sarah? I'm glad there's a tiny corner of butter left to fry them in."
By the middle of the afternoon, this curiously acquired meal was ready; and, although the potatoes were plain boiled with their jackets on and the gravy was pretty lumpy, it all tasted very good indeed to the hungry castaways.
"I guess," said Mabel, taking most of the credit for the mushrooms to herself, "that I just about saved your lives."
"Or poisoned us," remarked Marjory, who wasn't quite sure that she liked mushrooms. "I'm glad, anyway, that we've enough meat and potatoes and gravy left for another meal."
"That venison," said Mr. Black, beaming at his satisfied family, "was certainly good."
"Mr. Black," queried Henrietta, her black eyes twinkling saucily, "didn't I hear you say that you were going to have Dave arrested for getting game out of season? What happens to people that eat it out of season?"
"They get arrested, imprisoned, and fined," said Mr. Black, "provided the game warden catches them. I'm glad you asked that question, Henrietta. Girls, you are not to mention this venison in town or to any chance visitor that may come this way. And don't point out that wigwam to any stranger—there are too many evidences of Dave's crimes about the place. Besides, they're on my property—they might hold me responsible."
"Particularly if they caught you with the bones on your plate," remarked Mrs. Crane, dryly. "And, in any case, you stole that venison."