THE EXAMINATION
Tom Taylor was really quite excited. He strode along the street
quickly, fluttering the paper containing the wonderful news, until
finally Mrs. Taylor was obliged to call out:
“Tom, dear! You seem to forget that I haven’t my seven-league boots on.
I can’t keep up with you,” and she laughed, though there was a worried
look in her eyes.
“That’s so, Mother! I beg your pardon,” Tom said. “I forgot about
everything except this chance. Say! it’s great; isn’t it?” and he
looked at his mother with shining eyes.
“Are you really going to attempt it?” she asked softly.
“Why, yes, of course,” Tom said, quickly. “Why not?”
“Do you think you can pass, Tom?”
“Well, I’m not absolutely sure of it, of course. No one is. But I think
I can pass the preliminary physical test, and that will admit me to
the written examination. I’ve been making some inquiries about that,
and there isn’t any subject that we haven’t had in our high school
work. I may be a bit rusty on certain things, but I’m going to bone up
on them. I’ve got a week or more.”
“And if you pass this examination that is to be held at Preston, does
that mean you’ll become a cadet?” asked his mother.
“No, it doesn’t, worse luck!” Tom exclaimed, with a rueful laugh.
“But if I come out ahead in this preliminary examination, and get the
appointment from Congressman Hutton, it means that I have a chance to
go to West Point, and have a try there. And there’s where it will be
pretty stiff, I imagine.”
“Oh, Tom, I--I hope you get it,” his mother murmured.
“Ho, ho! Thought you didn’t want to see me in the army?”
“Well, I don’t want to see you go to war,” his mother said gently. “But
if it is your ambition to become a West Pointer, and if, as you say,
there is a chance to do good work outside of shooting and killing, why,
I shall not oppose you. Now let’s hurry home. I must get the dress
finished, West Point or not,” and she smiled.
Tom walked beside her, reading over and over again the notice of the
examination soon to be held. In brief it was a statement from the
congressman of that district to the effect, that, as he had a chance to
name a youth to go to West Point, he had decided to throw the chance
open to all the eligible lads of his district. They were to report at
the Preston Court House on a certain day.
“And I’ll be there!” exclaimed Tom. “But I say though--hold on. There’s
something I almost forgot!” and a shade of annoyance passed over his
face.
“What is it, Tom?” asked his mother, as they neared the cottage.
“I have to have a hundred dollars, Mother.”
“A hundred dollars, Tom! What for?”
“To deposit at West Point,--that is if I get the permanent
appointment,” he explained. “It’s a sort of guarantee to cover
preliminary cost of equipment, and so on. I almost forgot that. A
hundred dollars! It’s a pile of money!”
“But you don’t need it right away; do you?”
“No, not until June, when I’ll have to report at the Military Academy
in case I’m successful. But--”
“Well, don’t worry about that part of it--at least not now,” said his
mother. “When the time comes I may find a way to get it. I don’t want
to see you lose this chance. Don’t worry about the money or it may
spoil your chances for passing the examination. I dare say I shall
manage somehow.”
“Oh, if you only can, Mother!” and, even though they were out in the
street, Tom put his arms around her and kissed her.
“Oh, Tom!” she remonstrated.
“Don’t you care!” he cried, gaily. “Nobody saw us, and I don’t mind in
the least if they did.”
Supper was rather an excited meal, and Tom fairly ran home with the
dress his mother finished. He was paid, and as he carried back the
money he thought:
“It’s a shame I can’t make more myself. I don’t like the idea of taking
the money mother earns with her needle to go to West Point with. I sure
do want to go, though!”
“But I’ll make good!” he declared to himself, “and when I do, and when
I’m earning a decent salary, I’ll make it all up to mother. She can
live with me in barracks, perhaps, and I’ll be an engineer in charge of
some big work. Say, it sure will be great!”
His mind filled with such rosy dreams of the future as these, Tom
hurried around a corner, and ran full tilt into a man advancing from
the opposite direction. So hard was the impact that Tom would have
knocked down the man but that he caught hold of him and held him up.
“I beg your pardon!” Tom exclaimed.
“Hey! Heck! Huh--! Huh--! Ahem! Ah!” the man ejaculated, trying to
recover the breath that had been driven from his body. “What do you
mean by running into me like that, young man? What do you mean?”
“I beg your pardon--Oh, it’s Mr. Doolittle!” Tom exclaimed. “I didn’t
see you and--”
“Well, you’d better look where you’re goin’ next time!” was the
snappish response. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” and he seemed for the first
time to recognize Tom. “Might have known,” he muttered. “Nobody else
would be rushin’ around corners like that but you!”
“I hope you’re not hurt, Mr. Doolittle!” Tom ventured to say, as he
picked up the hat of the man who had succeeded to most of Mr. Taylor’s
property.
“Hurt? Huh! More by good luck than your efforts if I’m not!” was
grunted out. “Is my hat dented?”
“No, it doesn’t seem to be hurt a bit,” Tom said, as cheerfully as he
could. He brushed it off, and Mr. Doolittle placed it on his head.
“Um! Humph!” was all the answer Tom received, and then, muttering to
himself, the man who was counted one of the wealthiest in Chester
passed on in the darkness.
“Hope he doesn’t tack on an extra charge for interest just because
I ran into him,” thought Tom, as he kept on. He said nothing to his
mother of the encounter as he handed her the money he had brought home
for the dress.
When Tom went to school next day he discovered that a number of his
classmates had seen the notice about the competitive examination to
be held for the West Point cadetship, and several announced their
intention to try it. At the suggestion of one of them they decided to
learn the line of questioning that would be followed, and to study
up on those subjects specially. The school principal heard of their
intentions and kindly offered to coach them, which offer was gratefully
accepted.
Then began busy days for Tom Taylor. He was well up in his studies, and
he had little to fear regarding the physical examination, but there was
always the haunting fear lest something should happen. So he studied
early and late until the day set for the taking of the examination.
Tom arose early that morning, and with a last final look at his books,
and with a kiss from his mother, he set off to take the trolley to
Preston. He met several of his chums on the same errand.
The examinations would take all of one day and part of the next, and
some of those, who came from a distance, had to stop at the Preston
Hotel. But Tom could go home at night.
On reaching the court house, where the examinations were to be
conducted, Tom found a number of other lads there. Most of them were
strangers to him, coming from distant parts of the congressional
district.
Congressman Hutton was on hand, personally to direct matters, and three
physicians were in attendance to conduct the physical examination. To
Tom’s delight he went through this successfully, as he had expected.
But some of the boys were rejected, and with tears of regret in their
eyes they went back home.
Tom came from the room where he had been thumped, pounded, made to read
cards at varying distances to test his eyesight, and had had his heart
listened to after jumping violently up and down.
“You’ll do, young man,” the chief physician had said gruffly. “Get your
clothes on.”
Tom’s heart beat high with hope. As he was going out to join the other
candidates, some successful thus far, and some not, Tom saw a young
man, flashily dressed, standing near a window, smoking a cigarette.
“Better cut that out if you’re going in for the exam,” suggested a lad
near the smoker.
“Oh, I’m not worrying,” was the sneering retort. “They can’t turn _me_
down.”
The speaker turned, and Tom saw that he was Clarence Hawkesbury, the
nephew of Captain Hawkesbury, who had come into possession of so much
of Mr. Taylor’s property. Clarence looked at Tom and bowed coldly. They
had known each other for some time, but Tom did not care for Clarence,
and his “sporty” ways, and certainly young Hawkesbury had no liking for
Tom.
“Well, if you got through I’m sure I can,” Clarence said sneeringly to
our hero as he passed. “I’m going to get this appointment!” he added.
“If you do you’ll have to beat me!” thought Tom, grimly.