"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 to dispute our right. I know one man who pastures cows there." "He has no right to do so. Here, I will give you a paper in due form." Whatever his other shortcomings, Peter Thompson was not a slipshod business man. He drew up a paper in due form, stating that his brother could occupy the little farm for five years, rent-free, and if he wished to do so could at any time in said five years buy the little farm for one hundred and fifty dollars, payable at the rate of fifty dollars per year, without interest. "And now good-by and good luck to you," said he as he handed the paper to Randy. "Some day, if I can get the time, I may call upon you. But I rarely go away from home." Randy shook hands and left, and in a minute more was riding home on the bicycle.