“Of course he does. Why, I could pretty nearly do it myself! Of course I’d have to study it out a bit——”
“My, but you’re getting a swelled head, Tom! You’ll be telling me pretty soon that you invented automobiles!”
Ten minutes later the boys were walking along Washington Street to Willard’s house. One of Connors’ hacks rolled by on the way to the hotel and Willard, looking after it, shook his head pityingly.
“There won’t be much for them to do, Tom, when we get The Ark moving, eh?” Willard had dubbed the automobile The Ark in a facetious moment, and, although Tom had protested, the name had stuck. Tom smiled.
“What I’m afraid of,” he replied, “is that Connors will go and put on an automobile himself. He could, you know.”
“Maybe he could, but he won’t. Livery men hate the things like poison. I wonder if he will try to make trouble for us, Tom.”
“Connors? I don’t see how he could,” Tom objected. “We have a perfect right to run an automobile if we want to.”
“Y-yes, but Connors isn’t the sort of man to sit down and twiddle his thumbs if he sees anyone getting business away from him. Dad was saying the other day that Connors wouldn’t like it much, and was telling how he had driven two or three other livery men out of business here.”
“Well, I don’t see how he could drive us out of business, Will,” replied Tom as they entered the Morris gate. “Gee, something smells mighty good! And I’m as hungry as a bear!”