"If I can't get anything else to do, I can do some fishing later on," he mused. "I can get at least two or three dollars' worth of fish a week, and that would be better than nothing—and I could keep right on with the farm, too."
When Randy returned home he had quite a story to tell, to which both his father and his mother listened with interest.
"Randy, you must be careful in the water," said Mrs. Thompson, with an anxious look in her eyes. "Supposing that girl had dragged you down?"
"I was on my guard, mother."
"Randy is a good swimmer," said his father. "I was a good swimmer myself, in my younger days."
The fish proved acceptable, and Randy readily got Jerry Borden to trade him some bacon for a mess, and also give him some fresh vegetables.
"Gosh! Wish I'd gone fishing," said Sammy. "I like to catch big fish."
"Well, I am not going to stop you," said our hero.
"Sammy never has no luck," put in Mrs. Borden. "Once he went fishing all day and all he got was three little fish."
"Didn't nuther!" cried Sammy. "I got twelve big bites, but they got away."