“Oh, let us take all the game back to the school!” exclaimed Ben. “Just to show the fellows what we got, you know.”
“That’s the talk!” cried Gus. “If we don’t, maybe they won’t believe we were so lucky.”
“Yes, let us take it all back,” chimed in Chip Macklin.
All but Buster were willing to keep the game. He heaved a deep sigh.
“All right, if we must,” he said mournfully. “But it makes my mouth water, just the same!” And he eyed the plump rabbits and fat partridges wistfully.
Inside of half an hour the lunch was under way. Around the roaring campfire sat the students, some on convenient rocks and others on a fallen tree that chanced to be handy. They had brought with them several kinds of sandwiches, besides hard-boiled eggs, crackers, cheese, some cake, and the coffee, with a small bottle of cream and some sugar. They also had some potatoes for roasting, and though these got partly burned, all declared them “fine” or “elegant,”—which shows what outdoor air will do for one’s appetite.
They took their time, and during the meal Shadow was allowed to tell as many stories as he pleased, much to his satisfaction. It was Dave who was the first to get up.
“Might as well be moving,” he said, after consulting his watch. “We’ll have to start on the return inside of two hours, and that won’t give us much time for hunting.”
“Wait, I want just one more picture!” cried Sam, who had been busy before with his camera. “Now all look as happy as if to-morrow were Christmas!” And as the others grinned over the joke, click! went the shutter of the box, and the picture was snapped.
“Now, Sam, let me take you, with a gun in one hand and the partridges in the other!” cried Dave. “If it turns out well, we can have it enlarged for our dormitory.” And a minute later another picture was added to the roll of films.