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.

"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