"Not a bit—so Mr. Reilly was telling my husband. They say Mr. Bangs is mean to everybody."
Two days slipped by, and Randy was at work in the garden one afternoon when he saw a buggy stop at the front of the cottage and a portly man alighted. Knowing his mother was busy, our hero went to meet the newcomer.
"Is this where Randy Thompson lives?" asked the portly gentleman.
"Yes, sir, I am Randy Thompson."
"Oh!" The gentleman held out his hand. "I am glad to know you. My name is Andrew Shalley. You did my wife and little girl a great service the other day."
"I only did what seemed necessary," answered Randy, modestly. "Will you come into the house, Mr. Shalley?"
"Thanks, I'll sit down on your porch." The gentleman did so. "What are you doing, farming?"
"A little. We got this place so late this season I cannot do a great deal. Next year I hope to have the farm in much better shape."
"Do you like it?"
"I try to like it."