“All right. When we’re making two hundred and forty a month, Will, we’ll talk about that motor truck. Just at present what we want to remember is that we’ve got to pay Saunders some more money in a little over two weeks. And we’ve got to buy gasoline this afternoon, too. Don’t let me forget that, whatever you do!” When Pat Herron arrived at the station that evening to meet the 6:05 train he looked like a man about to indulge in an apoplectic fit! For there, right in front of where he had been in the habit of stopping his hack, stood that pesky automobile! “Get out of that now!” bawled Pat angrily. “’Tis plain I’ll have to be after having the cop run yez in! Move on, I tell yez!” But Tom and Willard only regarded him untroubledly for an instant, and then went on with their conversation. Pat tossed down his reins, leaped from the box and hurried to the side of The Ark. His helper, who drove the surrey, was not present, since there were seldom more passengers from the six o’clock train than could be carried in the hack, and Pat, perhaps, felt the lack of support. At all events, he was less truculent when he reached the car. “What’s the good of yez makin’ trouble, byes?” he demanded. “Sure, ye’ve been told ye couldn’t stand here. If Connors gets after yez he’ll have yez arrested, like as not.” “Oh, that’s all right, Pat,” answered Willard. “I ran over to Providence this morning and saw the president of the road. We’ve got a stand here now; in fact, two of them. After this you’ll find us between these two posts, Pat. And later on we’ll have another car at the far end there. So don’t you worry any more, old top.” “Seen the president, did ye?” sputtered Pat. “Yez’ll see the police station, that’s what yez’ll see! Wait till I get a word with Gus Tinker!” Off strode Pat to the agent. Willard and Tom exchanged a smile. A minute passed and Pat was still absent. Finally he returned around the corner of the station, scowling terrifically. “Wait till I tell Connors on yez!” he called, shaking a huge fist in their direction. “He’ll have yez out o’ that, begorra, before yez knows what’s happened to yez! Comin’ here an’ takin’ the bread out of me mouth, ye thieves!” Further remarks were drowned by the shriek of the locomotive whistle and then by the roar of the express as it drew into the station, its brakes rasping and grinding. Only three passengers got off, and two of the three set off on foot. The third hesitated a moment between the impassioned eloquence of Pat Herron on one side and the overtures of Tom and Willard on the other. The passenger was a meek looking little man with a suit case many sizes too large for him to which he clung in desperation. “It’s the hotel you’re wantin’, sir?” wheedled Pat. “Sure, I know yez well. I took yez up the last time, sir. Step right this way and――――” “Automobile waiting, sir! Only a quarter of a dollar, and get you there in a wink!” declared Tom.