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.