tom had frequent letters from his mother, and in turn he sent her long accounts of his life at west point. he emphasized the best points only, leaving out all references to the hard work, unless he could give a humorous turn to it, which he frequently did.
he did not mention his trouble with clarence, and made light of the rescue of the boys from the burning motor boat. this was in case she might see something of it in the papers. it was reported in some of the new york journals, but, as tom afterward learned, was not printed in his home town.
indirectly tom learned that clarence had his motor boat repaired and went to florida with it.
“well, that’ll take him out of the way here for some time,” commented sam, on hearing the news.
“yes, he isn’t a fellow i take to,” added harry.
[pg 119]
tom, too, was glad his enemy was, even temporarily, away from west point.
“i don’t want to be selfish,” tom said, “but i hope he doesn’t come to this academy when i’m here.”
the time was approaching when camp would be broken, and the cadets return to barracks. though in a measure some looked forward to this, as welcoming any change, tom knew it meant harder mental work in their studies, though he and his chums would be freed from the labor required of them in waiting on the upper classmen. then, too, it would be a change, and change of any sort was welcome at this stage of a plebe’s life.
so life in camp went on as usual with the final day approaching nearer and nearer each twenty-four hours. the annual illumination of the camp, which is timed for about a week before it breaks up, was a gala event. hundreds of japanese lanterns were hung about the tents, which were otherwise decorated, and there was music of different varieties supplied by the talented cadets. the band played also, and there were visitors galore.
tom did not receive any company, though his chums had sisters and girl friends and relatives who came for the occasion. but mrs. taylor wrote that she was unable to come, and tom[pg 120] could guess the reason why—a lack of money.
“hang it all!” he exclaimed disconsolately, “i wish i could hurry up and get rich—quick.”
but few persons do that, except in stories, and they, as the little boy said, don’t count.
“if i could only get hold of some of father’s former wealth we’d be on easy street,” mused tom.
he thought of how captain hawkesbury and aaron doolittle had so easily profited by his father’s efforts, and a deep regret filled our hero’s heart. of course tom realized that his father might have mismanaged, and have made mistakes or unfortunate speculations, as men often do.
“but to think they profited by it, and then to have them treat us as they do galls me,” tom went on to himself. “if i could only find out whether there was anything wrong—any deal between hawkesbury and doolittle—i might be able to get back something out of the wreck. but i guess they’re too foxy for me.”
captain hawkesbury’s evident dislike of tom had not abated much. true the army captain could not do a great deal to tom, but what little he could do he did, and it only takes a little additional, during a lad’s first year at west point, to make him almost hate life. the only excuse is that it is excellent training for him.
every time he had a chance captain hawkesbury[pg 121] made matters unpleasant for tom, giving him extra hours of guard duty for the slightest infraction of rules. be tom’s shoes never so brilliantly polished, his rifle never so shining, and his face never so cleanly shaved, he often was called to account for some fancied neglect. others, as well, were reprimanded by different officers, but every one noticed that more than tom’s just share of reproof and punishment was meted out to him.
“i know what he’s doing it for, too,” tom told his chums. “he hopes i’ll withdraw and make a vacancy in our district so clarence will have a chance. but i’m going to stick!” he declared with a grim tightening of his lips.
“that’s right!” exclaimed sam, clapping tom heartily on the back.
and so life went on, not altogether evenly, but as happily as could be expected.
with the usual noise, shouting and hilarity the class that was on furlough—the second year men—came back with the usual ceremonies; marching up the hill from the station, and posing for their photograph on the chapel steps. before this, however, they had been pulled and hauled about, to make their clothing and hats look more like the apparel of tramps than anything else. but that was part of the game.
soon they had gone on to barracks, where they[pg 122] donned their natty uniforms, and once again they took up life where they had left off. two more years of it and they would graduate.
tom looked at them longingly. would he ever reach that point? it seemed very far off.
finally came the day for breaking camp. the tents, the ropes of which had been previously loosed, fell as one at the tap of the drum, and a little later, piled in wagons, were being carted away with the paraphernalia. then came the marching of the cadets back to barracks, and tom and sam went to the room that had been assigned to them, harry and chad being quartered near.
the room of tom and his chum was plainly, even severely, furnished. it was as unlike the average college student’s room as is possible to imagine. not a sofa cushion was allowed, nothing but hard-bottomed chairs, and even the clock on the mantel, where must also be kept the official blue book of regulations, must not cost above a certain sum. there were no decorations, no pictures—nothing but bare, cheerless walls. it was military, and that was the best that could be said of it.
tom and sam had to take turns in keeping the room in order, each being held responsible on alternate weeks. they must do their sweeping, their dusting and the carrying of water. the[pg 123] biblical injunction to hew wood did not apply in their case.
there were two inspections to be provided for, one in the morning and one in the evening, and everything in the room, needless to say, must be spick and span in anticipation of this. there was a difference between sunday and week-day inspections.
on the latter the cadets might be absent at drill or recitations when their rooms were looked at. in this case they did not see the inspector. but if they happened to be in when he made his round they could be in fatigue uniform, or if the inspection did not take place until after eleven o’clock in the morning, it was permitted to wear a dressing gown.
but the sunday inspections are the critical ones. the cadets have to be in their rooms then, attired in their best dress coats and gloves without a speck. the slightest article out of place, or the least deviation from the regulations, causes the tactical officer to make an adverse report or “skin.” the cadet captain is also present at these sunday inspections.
there was a slight change in the routine after the return to barracks. recitations began early in september, and the time of rising was put back a half hour, being at six o’clock. breakfast was a half hour later, guard mounting at seven-ten and[pg 124] recitations, after the call to quarters, began at eight o’clock.
there were four recitation periods up to nearly one o’clock and the classes were so divided that while one section recited another studied.
tom found it rather strange at first, to be under absolutely no set rules or requirements in regard to study. the cadets were allowed to fix their own standards in this respect. all that was required of them was that they be perfect in recitation.
military discipline, of course, was insisted on. the instructors were all west point graduates, the strictest of the strict, and not only must the cadets be perfect in their lessons, but in their manner, deportment and dress. woe betide he whose shoes were not polished to just the proper degree of brilliancy, or who came in with a speck on his otherwise immaculate collar.
but tom and his chums managed to worry through, somehow or other. they were not the most brilliant students, neither were they the lowest. in fact, they were a good average, and they were fairly well satisfied with themselves.
the work was hard—no one denied that. on the other hand the results were in keeping. it was worth all it cost—tom felt sure of that.
now and then the boys would be caught in some infraction of the rules—such as having a[pg 125] light in their rooms at forbidden hours, even though they carefully darkened the windows. they were given extra tours of duty on saturday afternoons for such things, when otherwise they might have been free to enjoy themselves.
in january would come the examinations for those who failed to qualify in class to a certain percentage. tom and chad were among the lucky ones who escaped the nerve-racking ordeal of a strict examination before the official board, but sam and harry were obliged to submit. however, they were successful, and breathed easier.
some of the plebes were dropped, not coming up to the standard in the january tests, and were obliged to withdraw, giving their friends and relatives whatever excuse they thought best suited to the occasion.
“well, we’re here yet!” exclaimed tom to his chums when it was all over.
“all here, what there is left of us?” sighed sam, who had come pretty close to failure in one study.
the examination days brought with them some spare time which the cadets enjoyed in outdoor sports.
and so, in the way already described, tom passed two years at west point. he had not seen his mother in all that time, though he heard from her often. you may judge, then, of his delight[pg 126] when, having successfully passed his second year, he was allowed a furlough of two months to go back home.
“and i want to see you very much, tom,” mrs. taylor wrote. “i have something important to tell you.”
“i wonder what it can be?” tom mused, as he prepared to leave the academy for a short time.
