"I never once thought of that!" Jimmie exclaimed. "Why, we won't have
any fun hunting at all! I wonder if there is a closed season for
coons?"

Teddy took out a memorandum book and turned to an insert pasted on
the inside of the cover. Dropping to the ground, so as not to attract
the attention of any natives who might be near by, he read the slip
by the aid of his electric searchlight.

"Open season for wild turkeys in West Virginia from October fifteen
to December one," he read. "Now, what do you know about that? Rotten,
eh?"

"I guess we can get one to eat, all right," grumbled Jimmie. "Who's
going to know anything about it if we do, I'd like to know? Away off
here in the mountains!"

"I presume there are constables and justices up here who would be
glad to soak us for fifty or a hundred apiece!" Teddy grinned. "I
reckon we'd better eat hens, and coon, and fresh fish--if we can get
them! And deer! We get no venison steaks!"

"Not this season!" Jimmie grunted. "They'd take great joy, as you
say, in getting us into jail and extracting all our vacation money!
I'm going to take photographs of the West Virginia game laws. A man
is about the only creature one can shoot down here during the summer
and get away with it! I'll have Frank put that idea in his dad's
newspaper!"