“Well how about it, Tom, old man?” asked Sam, as he met his chum after the last examination. “Get through all right?”
“I hope so. How about you?”
“Oh, I guess I managed to squeeze through. I’m not trying to set a pace, like you.”
“Well I don’t know that I have set it, Sam,” returned Tom.
“Oh, I think you did.”
And so it proved, for when the final standings were announced Tom Taylor was second man in his class, first place going to a New York cadet, who was a brilliant student, a first-class athlete and one of the most popular men in his division.
Not that Tom lacked popularity. It was felt, on the part of the cadets at least, that he was responsible for the resignation of Captain Hawkesbury, and this had endeared Tom to all, for the old army officer was cordially hated.
When the examinations were over, and Tom and the others realized they had not been “found,” which would have meant that they had actually “lost,” there was more freedom. There was little to do save plan enjoyments, and these were crowded in to the limit.
Tom was a good dancer, and he met many girl friends of other cadets who were eager to have him for a partner. Certainly Tom, in his natty new uniform, was a partner of whom to be proud.
But all good things have an ending some time, and it was so at West Point.