A man with a sample-case in each hand viewed Tom jovially but pushed by and transferred his luggage to the hack-driver. Several others viewed the boy good-naturedly but passed him by. An elderly lady, however, who was probably a trifle hard of hearing, handed a small brown bag to Tom and followed him around the station. But when she saw the automobile she shook her head in alarm and seized her bag again. “Sakes alive, you don’t expect me to trust my life in one of them things, do you, young man? Aren’t there any carriages here?” Tom conducted her to the surrey and helped her in, while the driver grinned from the front seat. Meanwhile Willard had fared no better, and the boys, standing on the platform, watched the horse-drawn vehicles rattle away well filled. “I guess it’s a sort of――of an innovation,” observed Willard. “I suppose we’ll have to educate them up to riding in an auto.” “How long’s it going to take to educate them?” asked Tom disappointedly. Willard had no answer for that. Teddy and Jerry looked properly sympathetic but were doubtless relieved to find that they would not have to walk home. “What you want, Tom, is a sign, a good big one,” said Jerry. “‘Any Part of the City for a Quarter,’ or something like that. Folks don’t know the thing’s public, you see.” “I told them it was,” responded Tom bitterly. “I can’t very well knock them down and throw them in, can I?” Teddy dug his hand in his pocket and sidled up to Tom. “Eh? What’s this?” asked Tom. “The quarter,” replied Teddy. “I’m going to ride back, you know.” Tom pushed the hand away with a smile. “That’s all right, Teddy, I don’t want your money. Climb in, fellows!” So The Ark trundled back to the village, completing its first, and unsuccessful, trip. CHAPTER X THE FIRST PASSENGER Discouragement didn’t last long, however. After they had dropped Jerry and Teddy they turned back into Linden Street and stopped at a sign painter’s. After some bargaining the proprietor agreed to paint them a small cardboard sign for fifty cents and have it ready by half-past one. “Any Part of the City, 25 Cents” was the legend decided on. Then it was dinner time and Willard dropped out at his house and Tom took The Ark back to Cross Street. The sign was ready for them when they called for it, but it was still pretty sticky. The painter looped a cord through it so they could hang it from the car and they went off in high spirits to meet the 1:57. They were confronted by something of a problem. If they secured any passengers from that train and took them uptown they couldn’t possibly get back in time to meet the 2:06. “What we need,” said Willard with a laugh, “is another automobile.” “Maybe,” Tom answered, “but I’m wondering whether we haven’t got one too many as it is. If we can’t get folks to ride with us――――” “Shucks! We’ll have all the business we can handle as soon as folks find out about us.”