At eleven o’clock that Tuesday morning The Ark, her brand-new number-plates in place, was run out of the garage and, with Tom at the wheel and Willard beside him, it chugged quietly――well, not quietly, perhaps, but, let us say, industriously,――through Washington Street in the direction of the station. Audelsville had six important trains a day, three from the east and three from the west. The first of these, the 9:01 from the west, usually brought few travelers, and the boys had decided to inaugurate their service with the 11:34, which was the Providence express and the favorite train for commercial travelers and business men. Later, at 1:57, there was a second train from the east, and after that one from the west at 2:06. Then there were no more until the Providence train went east at 6:05. At 8:40 the last of the half-dozen expresses passed westward. As The Ark neared Walnut Street there came a hail and Jerry Lippit, vaulting the front fence as the quickest means of getting into the street, ran up. “How does she go, fellows?” he asked eagerly. “Give me a ride, Tom, will you?” Tom stopped the car. “Jump in,” he said. Willard, however, could not resist a fling. “Remember what we told you, Jerry?” “What?” asked Jerry, as he scrambled into the rear and threw himself luxuriously on the seat. “Why, that you’d be begging for a ride in a week or two,” responded Willard. Jerry grinned. “I didn’t beg; I merely asked. Where are you going?” “To the station,” answered Tom, starting the car again. They had not confided their plan to anyone as yet, and it was generally supposed that The Ark was purely a pleasure craft. They were not destined to go very far, however, without another stop, for a little further along Teddy Thurston, returning from a store with six preserving jars in a wooden box, planted himself in the middle of the street. “Let me in, Tom! Gee, but don’t it look swell? Here, Jerry, take these things till I get in.” “I’ll take you to the station,” said Tom, “but you may have to walk home.” “Walk home! Why, is it going to break down?” asked Teddy with a laugh. “No, but――there may be others to come back.” Tom looked questioningly at Willard. “You fellows might as well know, I guess,” said Willard as Tom started on. “We’re going into the livery business.” The passengers stared. “What’s that?” asked Jerry. “Why, we’re going to take folks from the train to the hotel, or wherever they want to go,” Willard explained. “This is the Benton and Morris Transportation Company, Limited; limited to one automobile,” added Willard with a smile. “Are you joking?” Teddy demanded. “Not a bit of it. Ask Tom.” Tom nodded. “Gee, but that’s a scheme!” exclaimed Jerry. “Say, you fellows might make a lot of money that way!” “So we thought,” responded Willard dryly. “That’s why we’re doing it, although I suppose you chumps thought we’d bought this thing just so that we could take you to ride.”