SUCCESS
There was a blur before Tom’s eyes; a blur that made the letters and
words on the paper in front of him seem misty and far away. He caught
his breath sharply. He remembered that his mother was watching him
eagerly--anxiously.
“I won’t show the white feather before her, no matter what happens,” he
told himself, fiercely. “If I’ve failed--”
He pulled himself together with an effort. After all, he did not yet
know that he had failed. He brushed his hand across his eyes, and the
blur vanished. He caught sight of one word--“congratulations.”
That could mean but one thing. He must have passed! Quickly he read
enough of the letter from the congressman to gather its import.
It was true. Tom had passed the preliminary examination with the
highest mark!
“Hurrah, Mother!” Tom cried. “It’s all right! I’ve passed! I’ve
won out, Mr. Hutton says! I got the highest marks of any in the
examination, and he’s sent my name as his nominee for West Point to the
Secretary of War. Think of that! To the Secretary of War!”
“Oh, I hope there’ll be no war!” murmured Mrs. Taylor.
“Don’t worry about that part of it, mother!” Tom cried. “Just think of
it! I’m going to be a West Point cadet. That is, if I pass the rest of
the examinations,” he added more soberly.
“Are there more?” asked Mrs. Taylor.
“Oh, yes,” Tom replied. “I’ll have to answer a lot more questions, and
stiffer ones than those they put to us at Preston. I’ll have to go
before the doctors, too. But I’m not worrying about that. I’ll have
some time before the middle of June, when I have to take the final
entrance examinations, and I’ll bone up in the meanwhile. Say, Mother,
this is great!” cried Tom, with shining eyes. “Simply great!”
“I’m glad you have succeeded so far, Tom,” said his mother in a low
voice. “But it will mean a great deal to me to have you away. Still, I
suppose you can come home often. West Point isn’t very far off.”
Tom was silent a moment. His face grew sober.
“No, Mother,” he said, slowly, “I’m afraid I’ll not be able to get back
to see you very often if I go to West Point. Cadets are allowed only
one furlough in the four years. That is, unless something extraordinary
happens. I can come home after I’ve been there two years, but not
before.”
“Oh, Tom!”
“But you can come to see me,” he added, quickly, for he felt a pang
himself at the thought of the long separation.
There were tears in Mrs. Taylor’s eyes as she said, softly:
“Oh, Tom, I almost wish you hadn’t passed!”
He looked at her blankly.
“That is, I don’t want to lose you,” she went on. “But if you have your
heart set on it, I suppose it is all for the best. You can’t remain my
little boy forever.”
Tom felt a lump coming up into his throat, but his mother, seeing which
way matters were going smiled as she said:
“There, Tom! we mustn’t be sad when there’s so much cause for
rejoicing. Of course you must go away. All boys do, sooner or later.
And if you went to college you’d have to leave me.”
“This is better than any college!” cried Tom, enthusiastically. “West
Point beats them all, in my estimation. Why, just think of it, they pay
you for learning there! I’ll get real money--that is after a while.
I’ll send you some,” he announced. “But say, Mother, now that I have
passed so far, and there is a chance of my going to the Academy, what
about that hundred dollars deposit? Can we raise it?”
“Oh, yes, I’ll manage somehow. Now let me see your letter. Is that all
Mr. Hutton says, that you have passed?”
“I haven’t read it all myself, yet. That’s as far as I got. Hello,
what’s this?” he exclaimed as his eyes took in the remainder of the
epistle. “Hawkesbury named as alternate! Well, I suppose that’s only
fair, but I’d rather it would have been some one else.”
“What’s that?” asked Mrs. Taylor.
“Why you see, Mother,” Tom explained, “the congressman names two
candidates. The one getting the highest average is first, and the one
who comes second is the alternate. That’s to provide, in case the first
named doesn’t pass the further examinations at West Point, for some one
to take his place, and have a try. Otherwise there’d have to be another
preliminary test. So Clarence Hawkesbury is my alternate; eh?”
“Does that annoy you, Tom?”
“Oh, no. For we’ll not both be in West Point, that is, unless he comes
up again next year in case of a vacancy. It will have to be either him
or me this time, and I rather think,” said Tom, slowly, “it will be I.
I’m going to pass, and make good!”
There was an air of determination about him as he said this that was
good to see.
Tom read the letter over again. It gave few details except those
that have been mentioned, but it contained the information that, in
due time, formal notification would come from the Secretary of War,
directing Tom when and where to apply at West Point for the further
examinations, physical and mental.
Doubtless Clarence Hawkesbury had received a similar letter, and would
also be told to apply at West Point when the time came for the final
entrance examination.
“I only hope he doesn’t travel with me,” thought Tom, for though he had
no ill-feeling against Clarence, yet the rich nephew of the old army
officer had frequently made it unpleasant for Tom when they had met.
Formerly Mr. Taylor and Captain Hawkesbury had been rather intimate
but, with the death of Tom’s father, and the discovery that most of
his fortune had, in some manner, been acquired by the army officer and
Mr. Doolittle, Tom could not help feeling coldly toward both the men.
There was no specific reason for it, but Mrs. Taylor, too, did not like
Captain Hawkesbury. Nor had she any warmer regard for Mr. Doolittle,
though they both offered to do what they could to help settle up the
estate.
The trouble of it was that there was very little left to be settled
up--that is little for Tom and his mother, and Mrs. Taylor preferred
the services of a young lawyer to those of Captain Hawkesbury or Mr.
Doolittle.
In view of this it can easily be imagined that Tom did not have the
warmest feeling in the world for the arrogant and supercilious youth
who was to be his rival--a rival, at least, until the results of the
final entrance examinations were known.
Once the delicious thrill of excitement following the receipt of the
congressman’s letter was over, Tom and his mother began to consider
ways and means. It would mean a change for them if Tom was to live
permanently at West Point for four years. There was much to be done to
get ready. But Tom, in the flush of his first success, made little of
these preparations.
“We’ll manage--somehow,” said Mrs. Taylor, cheerfully.