Further hostilities were interrupted by the screech of the train down the track. The boys moved across to the platform and Tom and Willard walked around to the front of the station. The express came to a stop with a grinding of brakes and the passengers began to disembark. There were not so very many to-day, perhaps a score in all. Tom and Willard, the former at the front end of the train and the latter at the rear, were ready for them, however.
“Automobile to all parts of town!” announced Tom. “Ride up, sir?”
A man with a sample-case in each hand viewed Tom jovially but pushed by and transferred his luggage to the hack-driver. Several others viewed the boy good-naturedly but passed him by. An elderly lady, however, who was probably a trifle hard of hearing, handed a small brown bag to Tom and followed him around the station. But when she saw the automobile she shook her head in alarm and seized her bag again. “Sakes alive, you don’t expect me to trust my life in one of them things, do you, young man? Aren’t there any carriages here?”
Tom conducted her to the surrey and helped her in, while the driver grinned from the front seat. Meanwhile Willard had fared no better, and the boys, standing on the platform, watched the horse-drawn vehicles rattle away well filled.
“I guess it’s a sort of—of an innovation,” observed Willard. “I suppose we’ll have to educate them up to riding in an auto.”
“How long’s it going to take to educate them?” asked Tom disappointedly. Willard had no answer for that. Teddy and Jerry looked properly sympathetic but were doubtless relieved to find that they would not have to walk home.
“What you want, Tom, is a sign, a good big one,” said Jerry. “‘Any Part of the City for a Quarter,’ or something like that. Folks don’t know the thing’s public, you see.”
“I told them it was,” responded Tom bitterly. “I can’t very well knock them down and throw them in, can I?”
Teddy dug his hand in his pocket and sidled up to Tom.
“Eh? What’s this?” asked Tom.