“Well, we won’t worry about the 2:06 train yet. I dare say we won’t get anyone from the 1:57. If we don’t we can wait there for the other.” As they reached the station early they had their choice of locations along the platform and were nicely installed when Connors’ hack drove up. But instead of taking a position in front or behind The Ark the driver stopped alongside. “Hey, you can’t stand there,” he announced truculently. “Why can’t we?” asked Willard. “Because that’s my place, that’s why.” “There’s plenty of room ahead there,” answered Willard. “Help yourself.” “Is that so? Smart, ain’t you? Get out o’ that now afore I has ye arrested.” Willard looked enquiringly at Tom, and the latter shook his head. The Connors surrey drove up and the driver of it stopped to hear the discussion. The hack driver appealed to him. “Johnny, these fellers think they have a right to stand here. What’ll I do with them?” “Put ’em out,” was the laconic reply. The other viewed the automobile doubtfully, evidently at a loss how to proceed. Finally he drove on, tossed down his reins and entered the station. A moment later he returned accompanied by the station agent. The latter came up to Tom and Willard. He was a small man with weak eyes and a sandy mustache and a nervous, querulous manner. He was evidently annoyed at being called from his duties. “You can’t have that thing here,” he announced hurriedly. “Connors, the livery man, has the privilege for the station.” “Do you mean that he owns the whole platform?” demanded Tom. “I mean he’s the only one can stand here. You’re after passengers, ain’t you?” “Of course.” “Well, you’ll have to keep away from the platform then unless you’ve got permission from the railroad. So move on now!” “How do we get permission?” asked Willard. “I don’t know. Put in an application. Write to the Division Superintendent in Providence. I don’t care what you do. I can’t stand here all day. Move along, can’t you?” “Connors doesn’t own the road, too, does he?” demanded Tom. “He doesn’t own anything,” replied the agent exasperatedly. “But he has the sole right to use this platform to get business. You can stand anywhere you like, I guess, as long as you get out of here.” “He ain’t got no right anywhere around here,” broke in the driver of the hack. “He’s tryin’ to get our trade away, he is. You wait till I tell Connors about it!” “Oh, tell Connors and be blowed!” said Willard inelegantly. “Go on, Tom, move her across to the other side of the road. I’ll find out if Connors is the only one who can come near their old station.”