It was pasture land, naturally good, but much neglected. A great many stones needed to be removed and the fences wanted propping up and here and there a new rail. The house, which faced a little side road, was a story and a half in height, with two rooms below and two chambers above. There was a well that needed fixing and also a cistern. Around the cottage the weeds grew high, and one of the windows was out and a door was missing.
"I can fix this place up, I am sure of it," said the boy to himself.
He was making a mental note of what was to be done when he heard a noise on the road and saw a farmer approaching, driving a dozen cows before him. It was Jerry Borden, the man who had been using the pasture lot without paying for it.
"Hullo! What air you a-doin' here?" asked Jerry Borden, looking at Randy in some surprise.
"We are going to move over here, Mr. Borden," answered Randy, calmly.
"Move over here!" ejaculated the farmer.
"Yes."
"In this air tumble-down cottage?"
"I am going to fix it up some."
"Well, I vow! It ain't fit to live in!"