“letter for you, tom,” announced sam one day, as his chum came in. “from home, i guess,” for tom had told his chums the name of his home town, and it was plainly to be observed in the postmark.
“that’s good!” tom said, as he took the envelope. “yes, it’s from mother,” he added, as he recognized the dear, familiar handwriting—a handwriting cramped of late, tom thought, by too much sewing.
“i wonder if i’ll ever be able to help her, and relieve her of that hateful work,” he thought, as he tore the covering off the epistle. “it sure is a long time to wait—two years more, and then four more before i’ll really be earning anything worth while. oh, why can’t i get hold of that railroad land?”
tom’s self-asked question was accented in his[pg 147] mind a moment later by what he read in his mother’s letter.
“i wonder if it is possible, tom, for you to send me a little money? i know you spoke of being paid a salary, and that it was held to accumulate for you. you said you would not need it all, and as i am a little pressed for cash just now, and as the sewing is falling off a little, i thought perhaps the authorities would give you some of what is rightfully yours.”
“great scott!” cried tom, aloud, before he thought of what he was saying.
“no bad news, i hope, old man! is there?” asked sam.
“no—er—that is not exactly—no,” tom stammered. “it’s just a little matter. i dare say it will be all right.”
though he tried to speak calmly, tom’s mind was in a tumult. he hardly knew what to do, and for a moment he was tempted to lay the whole matter before sam; but a natural delicacy stopped him.
sam was wealthy, tom knew, and he felt that as soon as money was mentioned his chum would offer to get him as much as was needed.
“i’ll try to get what is my own first,” tom decided. “it isn’t much, but it will help mother out. hang it all! why can’t i earn money? or why[pg 148] can’t i get what i believe is rightfully ours. i’m going to do something!”
just what he was going to do tom did not know. he could not decide so suddenly. slowly he folded the letter from his mother, and placed it in his pocket. sam watched his chum, covertly, and wished he could aid him.
“i’m pretty sure that was bad news tom got,” reflected sam, when his chum had gone out. “and it must have been about money, for if it was a death, or anything like that, he’d have been willing enough to tell. i wish he would tell me. i’d lend him all he needs. but he’s too proud to ask, and i can’t offer, for that might hurt his feelings. well, i’ll wait a bit and see what turns up.”
matters were rapidly shaping themselves for the upturn, but neither tom nor sam knew this.
our hero walked out to think alone for a time. he wondered if the plan his mother suggested were feasible. he resolved to find out, and began making some judicious inquiries.
the answers tom received told him that it would be better not to ask for this money just at present for certain reasons that need not be detailed.
“one thing i am going to do though, is to tackle old hawkesbury!” tom decided. “it’s time i did, and i wish i had done so as soon as i came back with that copy of the trust deed. doolittle[pg 149] must have written and told him what i said, and maybe the captain is wondering why i haven’t been to him before. probably he’s all primed and ready for me, and will unlimber with all his guns, but i can’t help that. i’ve got to do something for my mother. i can’t have her suffer!”
tom had a bitter feeling in his heart against the old army officer, but he endeavored to keep it down, and remain cool as he planned the interview.
he saw captain hawkesbury that afternoon, having received permission from his immediate superior to make the visit.
“come in!” called the captain sharply as tom knocked.
tom entered, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. buttoned under his closely-fitting coat was the rough draft of the trust deed. tom expected to use it.
“well, what do you want?” was the not very pleasant greeting of captain hawkesbury.
“a few moments’ conversation with you, sir,” tom answered. the captain did not ask him to sit down, but remained seated at his own desk, looking at tom with sharp eyes, in which our hero fancied he could detect a gleam of hate.
“i haven’t much time,” said the military man. “is it something in regard to your duties here?”
“no, it is something personal.”
[pg 150]
“i have nothing to do with you, personally!” was the frigid answer.
“there was a time when you were glad to have something to do with us,” went on tom, boldly. “when father—”
“that’s enough!” exclaimed captain hawkesbury sharply. “you need not bring up the past. i was very much disappointed in your father. he made a failure, and i and some of his friends were hard put to make matters come out right for the estate.”
“i don’t believe that!” cried tom, stung by the cruel words.
“what! do you mean to tell me that i am not speaking the truth?” captain hawkesbury almost leaped from his chair.
“i don’t mean anything of the sort,” went on tom, resolved to stake everything now. “i think you and mr. doolittle were mistaken about my father, and that there is a misunderstanding somewhere. perhaps this will help to clear it up,” and tom suddenly produced the draft of the deed. caution for the moment left him, and he tossed the document on the desk in front of the angry captain.
“eh! what’s this? what’s this?” exclaimed the officer, putting on his glasses and taking up the paper. “what is this to me?”
“it is a copy of a deed of trust, drawn by my[pg 151] father, naming you and mr. doolittle as trustees of the property that was bought by the railroad for their bridge approach,” tom said, speaking rapidly. “it is only a copy, of course, and was never executed. what i want to know is whether any such paper was ever legally drawn up, and whether or not my mother and i can get any money from that land. we need it—she needs it—very much.”
tom was pleading now. he had put his pride behind him.
“certainly not! certainly not!” cried captain hawkesbury, fairly spluttering. “how dare you come to me with such a question? that land mr. doolittle and i took for some of the money your father owed us. it barely sufficed. there was not a dollar left. something for you? indeed not! if i had what was right you would be paying me now. but i will let that pass. i am surprised at your impudence in coming to me with such a suggestion.
“this document is worthless—utterly worthless. i never saw it before, and certainly there is none like it on file. it is of no value!”
saying which captain hawkesbury tore the copy of the trust deed into several pieces, and threw them into the waste-paper basket.
“stop!” cried tom. “that paper is mine!”
he sprang forward, but was too late.
[pg 152]
“what, would you raise your hand to me?” fairly shouted the captain. “this is insubordination, sir! i could order you under arrest for that!”
tom drew back. he could not afford to have his career at west point spoiled.
“but that paper! it was mine. you had no right to destroy it!” he said.
“how dare you speak to me like that?” exclaimed the old army officer with a frown. “leave my room this instant. i destroyed that paper because it had my name on it and i will not have you going around showing it to every one and repeating a silly, baseless story. i had a right to destroy it as one of the men involved in your father’s affairs. now go!”
he pointed to the door.
tom hesitated. he might create a scene, raise a disturbance and carry the matter to the superintendent. tom did not think the part captain hawkesbury had played in his father’s estate gave him a right to thus summarily destroy any document he pleased.
but tom reflected quickly. captain hawkesbury, who had a certain power, might make matters appear so that tom would seem to be in the wrong. tom might even be dismissed. he could not afford to suffer that.
“and, after all,” tom reflected, “the paper[pg 153] isn’t of any value. it isn’t as if it were the real deed. i guess i’d better let the matter drop. but he is an insufferable cad! i—i’d like to—fight him!”
tom felt a wild rage in his heart, which was natural enough under the circumstances. he swallowed a lump in his throat, looked unfalteringly into the eyes of the old army officer, and, saluting stiffly, turned and went out.
tom fancied captain hawkesbury breathed a sigh of relief. was it fancy?
tom had staked his little all, and he had, apparently, lost. what would be the next move?
tom’s immediate need was to get money for his mother, and this problem was unexpectedly solved for him. his chum, sam, had guessed right, and, making bold, urged tom to tell the truth.
“look here old man,” he said, bruskly but very kindly, “won’t you let me help you out? i think i’ve guessed.”
then tom told the story, with the result that sam’s father advanced enough on some rather poor securities tom’s mother held to enable the widow to make ends meet. the securities could not be negotiated save by some one in mr. leland’s line of business, but he said he was really running no financial risk. so that matter was settled for the time being.
[pg 154]
as to the trust deed, tom had given up hope about that.
the work at west point went on, tom progressing rapidly. he enjoyed, most of all, the horsemanship, at which he was among the most expert. that being so, it was difficult to account for what occurred one day.
the battalion to which tom was attached was engaged in a sham battle, and there was some wild riding. tom held his own, however, until toward the close. he was riding alone when suddenly captain hawkesbury, on a mettlesome steed, dashed out from the line of officers. at first it seemed as though he had come out to speak to tom, and the latter drew rein.
“go on! go on!” shouted the captain. “don’t stop in my way!”
tom was confused. his horse became a little unmanageable, and as captain hawkesbury came on at top speed there was a collision between them. tom was unhorsed and fell heavily. he felt a sharp pain in his head, his eyes saw nothing but blackness, and then he lay unconscious, dimly hearing, as the fast sound, the gallop of horses’ hoofs as his companions rode toward him.
