"You be careful, or you'll get into trouble!" shouted back Randy, and then he and Jack walked away with their fish. "What's the matter, Master Robert?" asked the man-of-all-work around the Bangs place, as he approached Bob from the barn. "Oh, some fellows are getting fresh," grumbled the big youth. "But I'll fix them for it!" "I see they took some of your fish." "We had a dispute about the fish. Rather than take them from such a poor chap as Randy Thompson I let him keep them," said Bob, glibly. "But I am going to get square with him for his impudence," he added. After a long hard row and fishing for over an hour, Bob Bangs had caught only two small fish and he was thoroughly disgusted with everything and everybody. He walked into the kitchen and threw the fish on the sink board. "There, Mamie, you can clean those and fry them for my supper," he said to the servant girl. "Oh, land sakes, Master Bob, they are very small," cried the girl. "They won't go around nohow!" "I said you could fry them for _my_ supper," answered Bob, coldly. "They are hardly worth bothering with," murmured the servant girl, but the boy did not hear her, for he had passed to the next room. He went upstairs and washed up and then walked into the sitting room, where his mother reclined on a sofa, reading the latest novel of society life. "Where is father?" he asked, abruptly. "I do not know, Robert," answered Mrs. Bangs, without looking up from her book. "Will he be home to supper?" To this there was no reply. "I say, will he be home to supper?" and the boy shoved the book aside. "Robert, don't be rude!" cried Mrs. Bangs, in irritation. "I presume he will be home," and she resumed her novel reading. "I want some money." To this there was no reply. Mrs. Bangs was on the last chapter of the novel and wanted to finish it before supper was served. She did little in life but read novels, dress, and attend parties, and she took but small interest in Bob and his doings. "I say, I want some money," repeated the boy, in a louder key. "Robert, will you be still? Every time I try to read you come and interrupt me." "And you never want to listen to me. You read all the time." "No, I do not--I really read very little, I have so many things to attend to. What did you say you wanted?" "I want some money. I haven't had a cent this week." "Then you must ask your father. I haven't anything to give you," and again Mrs. Bangs turned to her book. "Can't you give me a dollar?" Again there was no answer. "I say, can't you give me a dollar?" "I cannot. Now go away and be quiet until supper time." "Then give me fifty cents." "I haven't a penny. Ask your father." "Oh, you're a mean thing!" growled the wayward son, and stalked out of the sitting room, slamming the door after him. "What a boy!" sighed the lady of the house. "He never considers my comfort--and after all I have done for him!" And then she turned once more to her precious novel.