is reason," pursued Mr. Thompson. "When your grandfather
died he left to me a small farm in Riverport. It is not very good and
has been used mostly as a pasture. I have been so occupied with other
things that I could not look after it. Perhaps you may know something
of it."

"Yes, sir, I do. It is about half a mile from our house, and is called
the twelve-acre lot. But I didn't know it belonged to you."

"It does. What I was going to say is that, although I am unable to give
you such assistance as I should like, I will, if you wish it, give you
the use of that lot, and the little cottage on it, rent-free so long as
you care to use it. Perhaps you can put it to some use. Anyway, you can
use the cottage."

Randy's face lighted up, much to his uncle's satisfaction. The land was
not extra good and the cottage all but tumbled down, yet it was better
than nothing. They could move out of the cottage in which they were now
located, and thus save the monthly rent, which was eight dollars.
Besides that, Randy felt that he could do something with the garden,
even though it was rather late in the season. Where they now lived
there was little room to grow vegetables.

"You are sure you don't want to use the place, Uncle Peter?" he asked.

"Not at all. You can use it as long as you please."

"Maybe you would like to sell it."

"Ahem! If you wish to buy it you can make an offer after you are on the
place. I once offered it to a man for two hundred dollars, but he would
not take me up."

"Then you will sell it for two hundred dollars?"

"I will sell it to you, or rather your father, for a hundred and fifty
dollars."

"I'll remember that, sir. It may be that we will like the place so much
we shall want to buy--if we can raise the money."

"You can pay off the amount at the rate of fifty dollars per year if
you wish."

"Thank you. You are kind and I appreciate it," and Randy meant what he
said.

Peter Thompson looked at the clock.

"I must go to dinner now. Will you dine with me?"

Had his uncle been alone Randy might have accepted the offer, but he
remembered the reception his aunt had given him and so declined.

"I think I had better get back to Riverport," he said. "I will tell
mother and father about the twelve-acre lot and see what they have to
say about it."

"Very well."

"Would you mind giving me a slip of paper so that we can prove we have
a right to occupy the place?" pursued Randy. "Some folks may try t