But in this, Tom was very much mistaken; it was by no means the end of it, as he found the next day. In fact, he did not believe that the ’squire would allow the matter to drop there. He fully expected that his father would soon hear the full particulars of his night’s work, and he was anxious to know what he would do about it. However, Tom kept all his fears to himself, and when he left the Night-hawks, he walked off whistling, as if he felt perfectly at his ease. He reached home in safety, succeeded in climbing up the porch into his room without disturbing any one in the house, and when he appeared at the breakfast table in the morning, he had the satisfaction of seeing that not one of the family knew any thing of his conduct over night.
When he had eaten his breakfast, he walked out on the lawn, and sat down to think over the question that had occupied his mind the day before, namely: What should he do next? But, contrary to his expectations, his evening with the Night-hawks had not quickened his ideas, for he was still unable to decide upon the business he ought to follow. He might, however, have spared himself the trouble of debating upon this question; for when he went down to the office, about ten o’clock, he found that his father had at last “taken the matter into his own hands,” as he had often threatened to do, and decided the matter for him.
“Tom,” said Mr. Newcombe, as the boy entered the office, “I was just on the point of starting in search of you. I want you to take a walk with me.”
So saying, the merchant picked up his hat and cane, and left the office, followed by Tom, who was lost in wonder. He would have given every thing he possessed to know what was the matter; but, fearing that his father had heard of what had been going on at the ’squire’s farm, he could not muster up courage enough to ask any questions. Mr. Newcombe walked through the village without making any remark, and finally stopped in front of the military school, a large building that stood on a hill, about a quarter of a mile from Newport, in the midst of extensive grounds, which were tastefully laid out, the whole being inclosed with a high picket fence, which pointed out the boundary of the students’ little world.
“Why, father,” exclaimed Tom, as Mr. Newcombe knocked at the gate, “I haven’t told you that I wanted to come here!”
“I know you haven’t,” replied the merchant; “at least you haven’t said so in words; but you have said, by your actions, that you can’t be trusted, so I have concluded to put you where you will be closely watched.”
This made it evident to Tom that his father knew all about what had happened the night before.
“I think this is just the place for you,” continued Mr. Newcombe.
“O, I always was an unlucky boy,” drawled Tom. “I never can do any thing like other fellows. I had almost made up my mind to go into the office as errand boy—”
“It’s too late now!” replied his father. “Besides, I don’t want a boy in my office that I can’t trust.”