"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."