The work was hard—no one denied that. On the other hand the results were in keeping. It was worth all it cost—Tom felt sure of that.
Now and then the boys would be caught in some infraction of the rules—such as having a light in their rooms at forbidden hours, even though they carefully darkened the windows. They were given extra tours of duty on Saturday afternoons for such things, when otherwise they might have been free to enjoy themselves.
In January would come the examinations for those who failed to qualify in class to a certain percentage. Tom and Chad were among the lucky ones who escaped the nerve-racking ordeal of a strict examination before the official board, but Sam and Harry were obliged to submit. However, they were successful, and breathed easier.
Some of the plebes were dropped, not coming up to the standard in the January tests, and were obliged to withdraw, giving their friends and relatives whatever excuse they thought best suited to the occasion.
“Well, we’re here yet!” exclaimed Tom to his chums when it was all over.
“All here, what there is left of us?” sighed Sam, who had come pretty close to failure in one study.
The examination days brought with them some spare time which the cadets enjoyed in outdoor sports.
And so, in the way already described, Tom passed two years at West Point. He had not seen his mother in all that time, though he heard from her often. You may judge, then, of his delight when, having successfully passed his second year, he was allowed a furlough of two months to go back home.
“And I want to see you very much, Tom,” Mrs. Taylor wrote. “I have something important to tell you.”
“I wonder what it can be?” Tom mused, as he prepared to leave the Academy for a short time.