“Well, don’t worry about that part of it—at least not now,” said his mother. “When the time comes I may find a way to get it. I don’t want to see you lose this chance. Don’t worry about the money or it may spoil your chances for passing the examination. I dare say I shall manage somehow.”
“Oh, if you only can, Mother!” and, even though they were out in the street, Tom put his arms around her and kissed her.
“Oh, Tom!” she remonstrated.
“Don’t you care!” he cried, gaily. “Nobody saw us, and I don’t mind in the least if they did.”
Supper was rather an excited meal, and Tom fairly ran home with the dress his mother finished. He was paid, and as he carried back the money he thought:
“It’s a shame I can’t make more myself. I don’t like the idea of taking the money mother earns with her needle to go to West Point with. I sure do want to go, though!”
“But I’ll make good!” he declared to himself, “and when I do, and when I’m earning a decent salary, I’ll make it all up to mother. She can live with me in barracks, perhaps, and I’ll be an engineer in charge of some big work. Say, it sure will be great!”
His mind filled with such rosy dreams of the future as these, Tom hurried around a corner, and ran full tilt into a man advancing from the opposite direction. So hard was the impact that Tom would have knocked down the man but that he caught hold of him and held him up.
“I beg your pardon!” Tom exclaimed.
“Hey! Heck! Huh—! Huh—! Ahem! Ah!” the man ejaculated, trying to recover the breath that had been driven from his body. “What do you mean by running into me like that, young man? What do you mean?”