“just a moment, mr. doolittle,” said our hero, coolly. “did you want to look at this paper?” and he held the deed of trust, or, rather, the rough draft of it, up so the crabbed old money lender could fix his eyes on it.
“no, i don’t want to look at it,” was the snarling answer.
“oh, excuse me. i thought you did,” tom went on. he realized that he had just saved the document from possible destruction, for the old man had certainly made a grab for the paper, and, had he secured it he might have held it to a burning gas-jet near his desk, where he had been melting some sealing wax when tom came in.
“no, i don’t want to see it,” mr. doolittle went on. “it isn’t any good. your father may have had an idea of putting that land in trust, but he didn’t do it, and you can’t prove that he did.”
this, tom realized, was his weak point. he[pg 139] had absolutely no proof that the land was only deeded in trust to captain hawkesbury and mr. doolittle. that it was actually deeded to them was brought out at mr. taylor’s death, for the deed had been put on record, and they had claimed the land and sold it to the railroad company. they claimed that mr. taylor had given them the land in payment for money they had advanced to him.
“that paper isn’t any good,” went on the old money-lender. “it might just as well be thrown away. it has no value.”
it was strange then, tom thought, that mr. doolittle should make such an effort to secure it. but he said nothing about that then. mr. doolittle appeared to have another sudden wave of anger.
“i haven’t any time to waste with you!” he stormed. “you needn’t come here bothering me. now you get out and don’t let me see any more of you. if you think that paper’s any good why don’t you take it to some lawyer? there’s plenty of ’em trying to make a living at law,” and he chuckled mirthlessly.
tom folded the document and put it back in his pocket. he realized that it would be of no use to show the paper to a lawyer. what would be the effect of an unexecuted deed of trust that[pg 140] was not even signed? tom knew the only thing that would avail him would be the completed document itself, and that would have no effect unless it was dated after the deed that had been put on file—that deed which gave the property to the two men who had sold it.
much disappointed, tom went out. he had tried and failed. well, matters could go on as they were. there was still west point, and tom had yet to make an assault on the final heights on top of which lay the coveted diploma. once he had secured that, he would see what could be done.
mrs. taylor did not show much disappointment, however much she may have felt, and there must have been some.
“never mind, tom,” she said, when he reported to her the result of his call on mr. doolittle. “you tried, and that was the best thing to do. we aren’t any worse off than we were. we’ll get along somehow,” she said bravely.
“yes, but, mother, i can’t bear to have you work so hard!”
“work is the greatest blessing in this world, tom,” she said with one of her fine smiles. she did not add that it helped her to forget her great loss. but perhaps tom understood.
putting aside the memory of the unpleasant interview[pg 141] with mr. doolittle, tom tried to enjoy his furlough. he went out with many of his former friends, and made some new ones. he was in great demand at several little dances gotten up by the high school alumnae, and he showed some of the girls new steps that he had learned from his cadet chums.
“say, tom,” remarked walter penfield, one day, “i’ll be glad when you go back to the academy.”
“why?” asked tom, in surprise.
“because the girls talk about nothing but you and your dances. you don’t give another fellow a show!”
“oh, if that’s all,” said tom, “come in and i’ll teach you a few new wrinkles.”
“good!” cried walter. “you may stay as long as you like.”
but tom’s time was strictly limited and he had to return to west point the last of august. as was the custom, he and his chums marched up the hill, torn and disheveled as to hats and garments, and had their photographs taken. then they took up the life where they had left off, some two months before.
tom had been made a cadet officer, and that, with the advance in class, gave him more privileges than he had had formerly. there was[pg 142] harder work to do, of course, for the studies were advanced. he had lessons in astronomy, and had to spend long night hours in the observatory taking observations of the stars. he became a fine mathematician, and he fairly dreamed figures.
building pontoon bridges, working with big guns and mortars, planning entrenchments, taking part in sham battles, riding in the seemingly reckless manner that characterizes west pointers—these largely made up tom’s life in the second stage of his stay at the military academy.
tom had rather hoped that captain hawkesbury would not be at west point after the furlough, but this was a vain wish, for the old army captain, grimmer and meaner than before, if that were possible, was “right on the job,” as sam expressed it.
of course, tom again fell easily into the life with his former chums, and he made some new acquaintances that were pleasant. but overshadowing everything was a suspicion, deep back in tom’s brain, that all was not right in regard to the railroad land. that deed of trust could not be forgotten, though how he was to turn it to advantage tom could not figure out.
he knew it would be worse than useless to appeal to captain hawkesbury. that official cordially[pg 143] disliked him, tom was sure, and he did not want to have a scene at west point. so he said nothing, but he resolved to keep his eyes open.
of clarence hawkesbury, tom saw little. if the rich youth made another effort to enter west point, tom was not aware of it. he did see clarence once or twice, the latter coming to some affairs given by the upper classmen. but clarence took no notice of tom.
not that this worried our hero any. he was only too glad not to come in contact with the bully, for he wanted no more scenes like the one that had preceded the motor boat accident.
tom wished he had a chance to ascertain what went on between captain hawkesbury and mr. doolittle. he wondered if the two corresponded, and whether the old army officer had been informed of tom’s visit to the money-lender. but of course there was no way of finding this out. tom could not play the spy in that fashion, and he seldom had a chance, now, to visit the captain’s quarters.
occasionally he was sent there, in the course of his duties, or to receive some reprimand for a real or fancied breach of the rules. but captain hawkesbury left no more papers or letters lying about. perhaps he was aware that tom was eager to get some sort of evidence.
[pg 144]
among the pleasures now allowed tom and his chums since they had graduated into a higher class was that of riding out on the public roads on wednesdays and saturdays. they had all become expert horsemen, and took delight in their steeds.
the pleasures of riding by themselves on the public road were rather limited by the injunction that no one must dismount unless it was necessary, and they could not go off the main roads. but, of course, the construction placed on the word “necessary” in regard to dismounting, was capable of extended application. tom and his chums managed to have good times.
occasionally they met captain hawkesbury on these rides. he only saluted them stiffly, and passed on, hardly giving tom a glance.
“i suppose he thinks clarence ought to be in my place,” tom said to sam.
“let him take it out in supposing then,” was the rejoinder. “that can’t hurt you.”
“no, but if he thinks we get off the horses now and then for—well, say a little rest, he’d be the first one to report it.”
“that’s right,” said harry. “say, we’ll have to watch him. and if we ever think he’s on to our game we’ll get ahead of him by reporting ourselves first.”
“sure!” agreed tom.
[pg 145]
there was a book kept in the guardhouse and in this volume the cadets who were allowed the riding privileges were required to register their departure and arrival. if the cadets chose they could also note, or report, any of their own infractions of the rules against dismounting without sufficient cause.
