As Tom passed he saw Clarence and Isaac Blake, two cronies, in close conversation in one corner of the doorway. Apparently they did not observe Tom, who heard Isaac remark:
“Think you’ll get a chance at him?”
“I’ll make the chance, if I don’t get it,” muttered Clarence. “If I can’t get there one way I shall another. Can I depend on you?”
“You sure can,” Ike said, and then Tom heard no more, for he passed on down the street.
“I wonder who it is they want a chance at?” Tom reflected. But if he gave it any further thought it was to guess idly that the talk referred to some one whom Clarence wanted to beat at pool or billiards.
That night Tom sat up late doing some extra studying, for he had neglected his lessons somewhat in order to go to the picture show.
Tom felt a bit tired the next day. He realized what caused it—studying too late. His eyes, too, were tired; possibly from pouring too long over text books, added to the strain of watching what the Scotchman called the “shiftin’ pictures.”
“I know what I’m going to do,” thought Tom. “I’ll go for a walk down by the river. It’s a fine day, and it ought to be nice on the water. I’ll get a boat and go for a row all by myself. I want to calm down. I’ve been doing too much thinking.”
It was Friday, and because of some special exercises the high school closed earlier than usual. Tom hurried home, changed into an old suit that would not be soiled by the water or mud in a boat, and made his way to the river. There were several pavilions where boats could be hired, but Tom, feeling rather in the mood for walking, went on until he had nearly reached the big railroad bridge, not far from which was a boathouse.
“And to think my father once owned all this land,” Tom mused as he looked at the big foundations on one side of the river. “If we had what the railroad company paid for it mother wouldn’t have to work so hard. Of course money wouldn’t make any difference to me at West Point. That’s one place where money doesn’t count. But if we had a few thousands mother could be nearer me, say in New York, and she could run up to see me once in a while. It’s going to be a long drill—two years at a stretch. But I guess I can stand it all right.”