“Well, I don’t mind admitting that I am,” he said, with a final look at the bridge, over which, at that moment, an express train was rumbling.
“Going right over our property as if it had a right!” grumbled Tom.
“But they have a right, son,” his mother said gently. “Don’t brood over that any more.”
Tom might have done so, in spite of her request, but for something that happened shortly after that. They were walking down the side street toward their cottage, when a boy with a bundle of papers under his arm, came along.
“Will you take yours now, Mrs. Taylor, or shall I leave it at the house?” he asked, touching his cap and smiling.
“I’ll take it,” said Tom. “I forgot the Banner came out to-day. Wonder if they have a good account of our baseball game.”
The Banner was the weekly paper issued in Chester, and Mrs. Taylor subscribed to it. Tom took the sheet from the delivery boy, and rapidly scanned the front page.
“Yes,” he said, “here’s a big account of the game. And here—Say, Mother! Look here!” he exclaimed, holding the paper up in front of her, and pointing out a certain item. “There’s going to be a competitive examination for a West Point cadetship! It’s going to take place in Preston in two weeks. It’s open to all the lads around here. Congressman Hutton has an appointment to make, and he’s going to let it go to the fellow who gets the best standing.
“Say, this is great! Wonderful! Mother, I’m going to have a try for that! A vacancy has unexpectedly occurred, it says. It’s my chance, Mother! It’s my chance!”