“You mean that I’ve got to lug this blamed box all the way back from the station?” demanded Teddy. “I hope so,” said Tom. “You’ll have to if we get any passengers.” Teddy stared doubtfully and dubiously back toward home. Jerry grinned heartlessly. “Serves you right for butting in,” he said. “Well, I can ride home on the trolley,” sighed Teddy. Then, “Look here, how much do you charge to bring folks back?” “Twenty-five cents.” Teddy put his feet on the preserving jars and settled himself comfortably in a corner of the comfortable leather seat. “All right,” he said magnificently, “I’ve got a quarter. You take me to my house, fellows!” Tom and Willard laughed, but Jerry viewed Teddy thoughtfully a minute as they turned into River Street. Then, ingratiatingly, “You don’t happen to have two quarters, do you, Teddy?” he asked. “I do not,” answered Teddy promptly and coldly. “Besides, you haven’t anything to carry and it would be wasteful and extravagant for you to ride home. And besides that, Jerry, you owe me a dime now. And it’s about time you paid it!” “I’d rather do that than borrow any more from you,” returned the other disgustedly. “You’re a tightwad.” “Honest, I haven’t got any more,” replied Teddy. “Look.” He pulled a leather purse from his pocket and held it open for inspection. It held a quarter, two flattened and defaced pennies and a much begrimed one-cent stamp. Jerry nodded. “All right. I can walk back without hurting myself. Say, she goes like a breeze, Tom. Let her out some more, why don’t you? How fast can she go?” “Eighty miles an hour,” replied Tom, winking at Willard. Jerry jeered. “I’ll bet she can’t go thirty! How fast is she going now?” “About twenty.” “Let her out a little,” begged Jerry. “Just to show us!” But Tom declined. “Some time I will, when we’ve got a good road. If I went any faster here, you’d be shaken out.” They were in sight of the station now, an old red brick building some sixty feet long that had been built when the railroad first reached Audelsville and had never been altered or improved. “Where are you going to stop her?” asked Willard as Tom slowed up. “I don’t know. Most any old place, I suppose. I’ll run down by the freight shed and turn around.” Although the train was not due for fully fifteen minutes the edge of the platform was pretty well occupied by vehicles. Connors, the livery man, was represented by a two-horse hack and a one-horse surrey. Mr. Martin’s big limousine was there, too, and the chauffeur, a smart young Irishman in a whipcord livery, looked curiously at The Ark as it trundled by. A couple of private turn-outs completed the roster. When, having turned the car around, Tom drew up toward the platform again there seemed no place to stop. “Take it around there,” suggested Jerry, pointing to a short stretch of platform at the further end of the building which was unoccupied. But Tom shook his head.