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Randy of the River: The Adventures of a Young Deckhand, a novel by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 2. At The Fishing Hole |
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_ CHAPTER II. AT THE FISHING HOLE The fishing hole for which the two boys were bound was on the river about a mile and a half above the town. At this point the stream was thirty to forty feet wide and ten to fifteen feet deep. It was lined on one side with sharp rocks and on the other by thick trees and bushes. At the foot of some of the rocks, where the river made a bend, there was a deep hole, and this some of the lads, including Randy and Jack, considered an ideal place for fishing. The boys did not row directly for the hole, being afraid they might scare the fish away. Instead they landed below the spot, tied fast to a tree root between the stones, and then crawled over the big rocks until they reached a point from which they could cast into the hole with ease. They soon baited up. Randy was ready first, but he gave his companion the chance to make the initial cast. Scarcely had Jack's hook touched the water when there came a jerk and the line was almost pulled from the boy's hands. "You've got him!" cried Randy, excitedly. "Good for you!" "If I don't lose him before I get him on the rocks!" answered Jack. But his fears were groundless, for a few seconds later the catch lay at his feet--a fish weighing at least a pound and a half. "That's the way to do it," said Randy. "You might have had him--if you had cast in first," answered his companion, modestly. "I'll try my luck now," and Randy cast in without delay. Then Jack also tried it again, and both boys began to fish in earnest. Soon Randy got a bite and brought in a fish weighing as much as the first catch. "Now we are even," said Jack. In an hour Randy had four good-sized fish to his credit and Jack had an equal number. Then Jack's luck fell away and Randy got three more while his companion got nothing. "There is no use of talking, you are a better fisherman than I," said Jack. "I think you drop down too deep," answered Randy. "Try it this way," and he showed his friend what he meant. After that Jack's success was a trifle better, but still Randy kept ahead of him. When the boys had caught twenty fish between them they decided to give up the sport. Randy knew where they could find some blackberries, and leaving their fish in a hole among the rocks, where there was a small pool of water, they tramped away from the river to where the blackberry bushes were located. "These are fine," said Jack, eating a handful with a relish. "Randy, we ought to come berrying here some day." "I am willing." "These berries would make the nicest kind of pies." "Yes, indeed! And if there is anything I love it is a good, juicy blackberry pie." "If we had a kettle we might take some home with us now." "I am afraid it is too late. What time is it?" Jack carried a neat silver watch which he consulted. "Why, it's half-past five already! I thought it might be four. Yes, we'll have to get back." "Let us go down to the boat first and then row up and get the fish." This suited the two boys, and soon they were making their way back over the rocks to where Jack's craft had been left. As they came out from among the trees and bushes they saw another boat on the river, headed for Riverport. "There is Bob Bangs again!" exclaimed Randy. "Hullo!" yelled Jack. "Have you been fishing, too?" "Yes," answered the big boy, and continued to row down the river. "Have any luck?" went on Jack. "Fine," was the short answer, and then Bob Bangs' craft drew out of hearing. "He was in a tremendous hurry," mused Jack. "Perhaps he didn't want us to see what he had caught," answered Randy. "That's likely it, Randy. I don't believe he knows as much about fishing as I do--and that is little enough." Having secured the rowboat, Randy and Jack rowed up to the fishing hole, and Randy scrambled up the rocks to secure their two strings of fish. He soon reached the shallow pool among the rocks in which they had been placed and drew up the two strings. "Well, I declare!" he ejaculated, as he looked the fish over. Then he counted them carefully. "What can this mean?" His string had held twelve fish and Jack's eight fish. Now three of the largest fish from each string were gone. He looked around with care, but could see nothing of the missing fish. "Hullo! What's keeping you?" shouted Jack, from the boat. "Come up here!" called back Randy. "Anything wrong?" "Yes." "Landy! I hope the fish aren't gone!" burst out Jack, as he scrambled up the rocks and ran to where Randy was continuing the search. The situation was soon explained and both boys hunted around in the neighborhood of the pool, thinking the fish might have gotten away in some manner. Then of a sudden Jack uttered a cry: "Look at this, Randy!" "What is it?" "A key ring, with two keys on it." "Where did you find it?" "Here, right beside the pool." "Then somebody has been here and taken our fish!" "Exactly what I believe." Jack began to examine the key ring and then he uttered another exclamation: "Here are some initials on the ring." "What are they?" "I can't make out very well--they are so worn. I think the first is R." "Let me see." Jack passed the find over and Randy examined it. "I can make it out," said Randy. "R. A. B." "Robert A. Bangs!" shouted Jack. "Bob Bangs!" murmured Randy. "Could he have been mean enough to come here and take some of our fish?" "It certainly looks that way." "Let us go after him and find out." "All right. Anyway, we can make him explain how his key ring got here." Taking what was left of the fish, the two boys hurried back to the rowboat and soon each was seated at an oar and pulling a good stroke in the direction of the town. "He must have been watching us fish," observed Jack. "And he must have seen us place our catch in the pool." "And took our best fish because he couldn't catch any of his own," concluded Randy. "Well, if he has my fish he has got to give them up," he added, with determination. Rowing at a good rate of speed, it did not take the boys long to reach the town. As they moved past one dock after another they looked for Bob Bangs, but the big youth was nowhere in sight. "I reckon he was afraid of being followed," said Jack. "There is his boat," answered Randy, and pointed to the craft, which was tied up near an old boathouse and not at the regular Bangs dock. While the two boys rested on their oars an old man who was lame, and who rented out boats for a living, came from the old boathouse. "Hullo, Isaac!" called out Jack. "Have you seen Bob Bangs around here?" "Why, yes; he just went ashore," answered Isaac Martin. "Did he have any fish?" "Yes, a nice string--some pretty big ones, too." "How many?" "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. _ |
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