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CHAPTER VI OFF TO WEST POINT

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tom was taken almost completely by surprise when the attack came. it seemed so uncalled for, and so unnecessary. but tom was not the one to stand and be struck without giving, in a measure, as good as he took, particularly when he was not in the wrong.

“i—i’ll show you!” muttered clarence. he aimed a blow at tom, but the latter cleverly dodged and clarence nearly over-balanced himself, almost doing what he had wrongfully accused tom of trying to do, and falling into the river.

“soak him, hawkesbury!” cried the cronies of the rich lad. “give it to him good and proper!”

“i will! watch me!” cried clarence, and this time his blow landed in tom’s face. the pain was stinging, for clarence was no light hitter, but tom came back instantly with as good a return.

in another moment the two boys were fighting,[pg 44] or rather, clarence was attacking tom, who defended himself vigorously. he was at a loss to account for the real savagery in the onslaught of the other. it was as though some great enmity were at the bottom of it, instead of being merely a fancied wrong on the part of clarence.

the latter missed another heavy blow at tom, who, in turn, countered, and swung so cleverly that clarence was sent swinging backward against one of his companions.

“here! look out what you’re doing there, taylor!” growled the youth in question.

“yes, he’s getting too fresh!” chimed in ike blake. “i guess i’ll have something to say in this racket!”

as clarence recovered himself, ike doubled up his fists and the two of them came at tom together. our hero caught his breath. he was not afraid, but it was manifestly unfair. the injustice of it, however, did not seem to strike the cronies of clarence.

the latter reached tom first, who, being unwilling to take too many chances, led out with a blow that might have been effective had it landed. but clarence dodged, and, a moment later a gruff voice called out:

“here! what’s the meaning of this! how dare you attack my nephew? stop it at once!”

the boys all turned to see the angry face of[pg 45] captain hawkesbury fairly glaring at them. but most of the anger seemed turned in tom’s direction.

“cease that attack at once!” came the order. “you, young taylor, i mean!”

tom was not going to be unjustly accused without a protest.

“your nephew struck me first!” he retorted. “i was just defending myself, and it looks as though they all wanted to fight,” he added, with a nod toward the cronies of the rich and arrogant youth. “i don’t mind taking one at a time,” tom said more calmly, “but if they want to pile on all at once i’m going to quit.”

“this fighting must cease!” declared the captain. “let my nephew alone, taylor!”

“i’m perfectly willing to, if he’ll let me alone. he struck me first.”

“he deliberately got in our way when we were having a race, and nearly pushed me into the water,” clarence said.

“that isn’t true,” tom said, calmly. “and you know it, hawkesbury!”

clarence scowled but did not answer.

“stop this at once!” went on the choleric man. “i forbid this fight to go on. clarence, you report to me, and i’ll take this matter up with taylor later.”

tom did not pay much attention to this. he[pg 46] passed on, rather excited it is true, but feeling that he had not had altogether the worst of it.

“though i would have had if they’d all piled on me at once, which they seemed about to do,” tom mused, as he walked on by himself. “i wonder what their game was? could it be that clarence wanted to ‘do’ me; to make me lame, or bruise me so i’ll not show up well at the physical examination in west point?”

like a flash there came to tom the memory of certain words he had overheard in the billiard hall entrance.

“clarence hawkesbury could easily put up a game like that, with the help of ike blake,” he declared. “i wouldn’t be surprised but that was it.

“if i fell down in the physical test, through being slightly injured, or something like that, clarence would stand next for west point. if that was his game i’ve got to be on the lookout.”

tom said nothing to his mother about the attack, accounting for some scratches and bruises by saying he had had a little mishap while boating. and as mrs. taylor was so busy getting tom’s things ready for his trip to the military academy she did not ask many questions.

“oh, but that’s an unsightly bruise on your face,” she said. “i hope it will disappear before you go to west point.”

[pg 47]

“i think it will,” tom said. “and i’ll take good care not to get any more there,” he mused.

tom saw nothing of clarence during the next few days, in which he was busy getting ready for his trip up the hudson. he also spent as much time as he could working on his studies. but in spite of all his hard work, he felt a horrible fear at times that he would fail to reach the standard set in the mental tests.

finally he reached the point where he was in such a nervous state that one of the high school teachers who was coaching him advised him to drop his books for a day or two, and live in the open. this tom did and his strained nerves came back to normal again.

mrs. taylor had raised the hundred dollars that tom must deposit to be allowed to take the examination. if he failed it would be returned to him, less a small charge for board during his stay at west point. just how much his mother had sacrificed to raise this sum tom never knew.

“but i do wish you had more money to live on, mother,” he said a few days before he was to depart for west point. “you ought to be rich.”

“riches do not always bring happiness, tom,” she said.

“they often help a whole lot,” tom said, with a smile. “but never mind, mother, some day when i’m an army officer, or a big engineer, i[pg 48] shall be able to send you money regularly. then you won’t have to sew when you don’t want to.”

“oh, i like sewing,” said the widow. “i wouldn’t sit around and do nothing. i couldn’t!”

the days passed more quickly now, at least to mrs. taylor, though tom thought each one was forty-eight hours long. he planned to go to new york by train from chester, and as he would arrive in the metropolis in the evening, he would stay at a hotel there, and go on to highland falls the next morning. highland falls is a village a mile below west point, and there most of the prospective candidates stay before reporting for their examinations. there are plenty of hotel accommodations there.

finally the day came. tom said good-bye to his mother, not without a choking sensation in his throat, and he had to turn his head away and blow his nose rather more often than seemed absolutely necessary. she did not go to the station with him, as she feared she would break down, and she did not want to give way for tom’s sake.

“good-bye,” she faltered. “i—i know you’ll do well, tom.”

“it won’t be for want of trying,” he answered. and a little later he found himself at the station, watching the train pull in that was to take him on the first stage of his trip to historic west point.

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