Mrs. Crane, however, was not called on to part with her dollar. The messengers returned without Dave.
"Not a single sign of him," said Henrietta, "and we called until all the little squirrels sat up and scolded us for making such a noise."
"He's out for venison, I fear," said Mr. Black, who was counting his seven precious fish-worms. "He has no regard whatever for the game laws. I shall give him a good talking to when he returns."
"You'd better wait," suggested Mrs. Crane, "until after he's been to Lakeville."
"You'd better wait," laughed saucy Henrietta, "until you see him."
"Anyway," said Mr. Black, "we must all remember to stand between Dave and the game warden, if that officer ever visits Pete's Patch."
"No really respectable game warden," laughed Henrietta, "would ever visit a camp with a name like that."
"That's a nice name," championed Mabel. "It's plain and sensible like Mr. Black. I like things that are plain and sort of—homely."
At this, everybody (including Mr. Black, who might easily have been much homelier than he was) laughed merrily; for Mabel, cheerful little blunderer, usually managed to give a queer twist to her compliments.