“Better not let him know you knocked his precious nephew down, or he’ll make it hot for you,” suggested Harry.
“Oh, he’ll probably hear of it,” said Tom, a little apprehensively, “but I’ll be on my guard not to get caught, just the same.”
They finished their cream, and then sat for a while in the cool shade of the summer garden, enjoying to the full the rest from drill and other duties at the Academy.
It was a respite that would not occur again for a year, perhaps longer, if any of them happened to be caught in some scrape that would curtail their holiday privileges.
And, as has been explained, they would not be allowed a furlough until they had completed two years at West Point. This time seemed so far off that none of them dared think of it.
“Well, let’s go out around town,” suggested Harry, after a while. “We want to take in all the sights. Not that they’re so many, but they mean a heap to us ‘plebes.’ Come along.”
“What about a moving picture show?” asked Sam.
“Have we time?” Tom asked.
“To see part of one, anyhow,” was the opinion of Chad. So, having paid their score, they strolled out. They saw nothing of Clarence or his cronies, and a little later our friends were seated in a small moving picture place, enjoying the reels of comedy and tragedy.
They still had an hour or so of liberty left after coming out of the exhibition before they were due at the Academy, a special privilege having been granted all save those being punished for some infraction of the rules. These unfortunates were not allowed to leave the limits of the military reservation.