And then there was the picnic. It was a big affair, gotten up every summer by the mill employees and participated in by many others. Tom made four trips to Wyman’s Grove in the afternoon and in the evening brought seven carloads home. The trolley line ran within a quarter of a mile of the picnic grounds and most everyone made use of the special cars provided by the railway company. But there were plenty who were eager to pay a quarter of a dollar to ride out in style in The Ark and Tom could have filled the car on each trip had it been four times bigger. The picnic added over ten dollars to the company’s assets at the cost of two or three gallons of gasoline, and both Tom and Willard were well satisfied. Tom’s scheme to take folks to the ball games did not result so successfully and after trying it one Saturday afternoon it was abandoned. The ball field was not very far from town and the young folks, who made up the bulk of the audiences, preferred to walk and save their quarters. About this time, to be exact, on the fourteenth of August, the Benton and Morris Transportation Company held its first monthly business meeting and declared a dividend! CHAPTER XVIII DIVIDENDS FOR TWO The meeting was held after supper in the little office at Mr. Morris’ cabinet shop. When Tom arrived Willard had his book and papers spread out on the desk and was all ready for business. “I thought,” said Willard, “we’d better come around here where we wouldn’t be interrupted. You can’t do anything like this at home because Grace is always butting in. Do you want to go over this yourself or shall I do it?” “You do it,” answered Tom, pushing his hat back from his forehead and perching himself on the sill of the open window. It was a hot, still night, with a wonderful big round moon throwing black tree shadows across the quiet street. From somewhere around a corner came the tinkle of a piano and, further up the street, Mr. Canton’s setter puppy was barking ferociously at the moon. But for these sounds, each of which seemed a part of the summer night, all was silence, the silence of a stifling August evening when not a leaf stirs and even the moonlight seems hot. Willard ran a finger around inside the low collar he wore and assumed the rôle of treasurer. “I tell you right now, Tom,” he began, “you’re going to be surprised, awfully surprised.” “I am, eh?” asked Tom uneasily. “All right. I can stand it. Go ahead.” Willard cleared his throat. “The books show,” he began in an important tone, “that we have taken in during the period from July twelfth to August eleventh inclusive, the space of one month, thirty-one days――――” “Oh, cut the speeches, Willard,” begged Tom. “It’s too hot.” “That we have taken in,” continued Willard, unruffled, “from――er――all sources the sum of $187.75.” “What! How much? Say it again!” “One hundred and eighty-seven dollars and seventy-five cents,” repeated Willard in triumph.