Randy of the River | Page 8

the whole
family went in to supper. Bob felt particularly elated. He had gotten
three dollars for spending money and he felt sure that the Bartletts,
including Jack, would have to suffer.
"I wish dad could do something to injure the Thompsons," he said to
himself. "But Mr. Thompson is only a carpenter. I must watch my
chance and get square with Randy on my own account."
CHAPTER IV
RANDY AT HOME
All unmindful of the trouble that had already come to the Bartletts, and
of the trouble Bob Bangs was hatching out for him, Randy divided the
mess of fish with Jack and hurried home.
"See what a fine mess I've got, mother!" he cried, as he entered the
kitchen, where his mother had just started to prepare the evening meal.
"Aren't they real beauties?"
"They are, Randy," answered Mrs. Thompson, and smiled brightly.
"Did Jack do as well?"
"Almost as well as I did, and we divided evenly, because, you see, he
furnished the boat. And, mother, I've found out where we can get a fine
lot of blackberries. If you want me to, I'll go for them to-morrow."
"I wish you would, Randy. Your father loves blackberry pie and
blackberry pudding."

"And so do I."
"I've got time to fry some of these fish for supper," went on Mrs.
Thompson. "And we can have some more to-morrow, too. But I don't
think we can use them all."
"I was thinking we might give Mrs. Gilligan a couple."
"That will be very nice. If you will, take them over at once."
Mrs. Gilligan was a poor Irishwoman who took in washing and ironing
for a living. She was alone in the world and often had a struggle to
make both ends meet.
"Just to look at that now!" she cried, as Randy held up the fish. "Sure
an' ye air a great fisher b'y, Randy, so ye air!"
"I got so many I thought I'd bring you a couple," said our hero.
"Now that's rale kind of ye," answered Mrs. Gilligan, as she dried her
hands and took the fish. "Just loike my Pat used to catch afore he was
kilt on the railroad."
"I caught them this afternoon, so you can be sure they are fresh."
"I'm much obliged to ye, I am indade," said Mrs. Gilligan. She drew a
long breath. "Sure an' the Lord is good to us after all. I was just afther
thinkin' I had nothin' but throuble, whin in comes these iligant fish."
"Is something wrong?" asked Randy, curiously.
"It's not a great dale, yet it's enough fer a poor woman loike me. It's
Mrs. Bangs' wash, so it is. Nothin' suits that lady, an' she always wants
to pay less than she agreed."
"You mean Bob Bangs' mother?"
"Th' same, Randy. Oh, they are a hard-hearted family, so they are!"

"I believe you. And yet Mr. Bangs is rich."
"It's little enough I see of his money," sighed Mrs. Gilligan. "Although
I do me besht wid the washin' an' ironin', so I do!"
"It's a wonder Mrs. Bangs don't make the servant do the washing and
ironing."
"She did make the other wan do that same. But the new one can't iron
an' won't try, so I have the work, an' the girrul gits less wages,"
answered the Irishwoman.
When Randy returned home he found supper almost ready. The
appetizing odor of frying fish filled the air. A few minutes later Mr.
Thompson came in.
Louis Thompson was a man a little past middle age, tall and thin and
not unlike Randy in the general appearance of his face. He was not a
strong man, and the winter before had been laid up with a severe attack
of rheumatism.
"That smells good," he said, with a smile, as he kissed his wife. "I like
fish."
"Randy just caught them."
"Good enough."
"You look tired, Louis," went on Mrs. Thompson. "Was the work extra
hard?"
"Not much harder than usual, Lucy, but I was working on a cellar
partition and it was very damp. It brought back a bit of the
rheumatism."
"That is too bad."
"Can't the boss give you something else to do--something where it isn't
damp?" questioned Randy.

"I have asked him about it," answered his father. "But just at present
there is nothing else in sight."
"You must take care, Louis," said Mrs. Thompson. "It will not do to
risk having the rheumatism come back."
"I wish I could get something to do," said Randy, while the evening
meal was in progress. "I might earn some money and it would help. But
there doesn't seem to be any kind of an opening in Riverport."
"Times are rather dull," answered Mr. Thompson. "And I am afraid
they will be worse before they