Randy of the River; Or, The Adventures of a Young DeckhandAlger, Horatio, Jr.
General
Randy of the River; Or, The Adventures of a Young Deckhand
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Boats and boating -- Juvenile fiction; Bullies -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Poverty -- Juvenile fiction
"Seven or eight."
"Which way did he go?"
"Up Samson Street."
"That's the back way to his house," cried Randy. "Come on!"
"What shall we do with our fish and the boat?"
"Let Isaac take care of them."
"Want me to take care of things, eh?" said the lame boatman. "Very
well, I'll do it."
The two boys were soon on the way, on a run. They knew about the route
Bob Bangs would take to get home and came in sight of the big boy just
as he was entering his father's garden by a rear gate.
"Stop, Bob!" called out Randy.
The big boy looked around hastily and was much chagrined to see the
others so close at hand. He held his string of fish behind him.
"What do you want?" he demanded, as they came closer.
"You know well enough what we want," returned Jack. "We want our fish."
"Your fish? Who has got your fish?" blustered Bob.
"You've got them," retorted Randy, and made a snatch at the string. The
big boy held fast and a regular tug of war ensued.
"Let go!"
"I won't!"
"You shall!"
"See here, Bob," interposed Jack. "It won't do you any good to hang on.
Those are our fish and we want them."
"Bah! How do you know they are your fish?"
"Because you took them from the pool in which we placed them."
"I did not."
"You did."
"You can't prove it."
"Yes, we can."
"How?"
"By this," said Jack, triumphantly, and exhibited the key ring and
keys.
CHAPTER III
EXPOSING BOB BANGS
When Bob Bangs saw the key ring his face changed color.
"Where did you get that?" he demanded.
"Got it where you dropped it--at the pool where we left our fish."
"How do you know it is mine?"
"By the initials on it."
"Humph!"
"If you don't want the key ring we'll keep it," put in Randy, quickly.
"No, you won't keep it. Give it to me."
"Then give us our fish," said Randy, quietly but firmly.
"They are not all your fish. I caught two of them."
"The two smallest, I suppose."
"No, the two largest."
"We lost six big fish and these belong to us," said Randy, and took the
best fish from the string. "Bob Bangs, it was a contemptible thing to
do," he added, with spirit. "I wouldn't do such a dirty thing for a
thousand dollars."
"Bah! Don't talk to me, unless you want to get hurt," growled the large
youth, savagely.
"I am not afraid of you, even if you are bigger than I am," said Randy,
undaunted by the fighting attitude the bully had assumed.
"It certainly was a mean piece of business," came from Jack. "If you
wanted some fish why didn't you ask us for them?"
"Humph! I can buy my fish if I want to."
"Then why did you take ours?" demanded Randy.
"I--er--I didn't know they belonged to you. I just saw the strings in
the pool and took a few," answered the boy, lamely. "Give me my key
ring."
The ring with the keys was passed over, and Randy and Jack restrung
their fish. In the meantime Bob Bangs entered his father's garden,
slamming the gate after him.
"You just wait--I'll get square with you!" he shouted back, and shook
his fist at Randy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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