“I suppose an advertisement in the News-Patriot would be a good idea,” said Tom. “You know, anyhow, Will, we promised Spider we’d put an ad in the paper the time he had his father publish that article about us!”
“Yes, we could do that,” Willard agreed. “And we could have some cards printed and distributed around town, too. How about a sign for the garage, Jimmy?”
“We’ll cover it with signs,” replied Jimmy. “And we’ll get a painter to put ‘C. T. & G. Co.’ on the car and the truck. We’ll do it right, fellows. Well, I must turn in. I didn’t get much sleep last night. Went to a theater and saw a peach of a show; ‘The Brigand’s Bride,’ it was called. Then I dreamed of it all night! I’ll meet you to-morrow at four-thirty at the garage, fellows. Good night.” Jimmy followed them to the head of the stairs. “Say, what’s that noise down there?” he asked suddenly. “Sounds as though you’d left your engine running, Tom!”
“Great Scott!” Tom bounded down the stairs three steps at a time and disappeared through the front door, leaving Jimmy and Willard chuckling on the landing.
“Another gallon of gas gone!” laughed Willard. “I guess Tom was too excited to remember to turn off his switch. Good night, Jimmy. You certainly did finely for us!”
“Just wait till you see it!” chuckled Jimmy. “She’s some little auto, believe me, Will!”
CHAPTER XXV
THE ARK FINDS A NEW HOME
Jimmy had predicted a busy week, and Jimmy was right. Things began to hum on Monday. Telephone and electric light connections were ordered, a visit was made to the printer and a card written to be inserted three times a week in the News-Patriot. All these things Jimmy engineered with his partners’ assistance between four-thirty and six o’clock. On Tuesday the car-barn was ready for occupancy, and, although their lease did not begin until the first of the month, they were at liberty to move in whenever they wished, and they “wished right away,” as Tom put it. So Tuesday afternoon, when The Ark had delivered its last passenger from the 1:57 and 2:06 trains, it was driven to Oak Street, and, with a loud tooting of the horn, rolled through the first of the two wide doors into the garage. It was quite a triumphal entry and the boys regretted that Jimmy was not there to witness it. The pit was a thing of the past, its former location indicated by a six-foot wide strip of new planking that gleamed across the floor like a path of sunlight. The old ties which had littered a corner were piled in the yard at one side, the owners being glad enough to escape the labor of carting them away.