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Updated: June 1, 2025
"Go look for the others?" he echoed Mrs. East's proposal. "Why, they've gone. I met them." "Gone! And left me behind when they knew I was here?" she exclaimed. "They can't have done such a thing." "I'm afraid there's been a mistake," replied Sir Marcus presently. "They certainly have gone. I met the boat. Borrow was expecting me to-day, you know or maybe you don't know.
So Tom got on East's shoulders, and grasped the tree above, and then Martin scrambled up on to Tom's shoulders, amidst the totterings and groanings of the pyramid, and, with a spring which sent his supporters howling to the ground, clasped the stem some ten feet up, and remained clinging.
Nor indeed could the friendship have lasted if East had shown no sympathy with these thoughts; so that it was a great relief to have unbosomed himself, and to have found that his friend could listen. Tom had always had a sort of instinct that East's levity was only skin-deep, and this instinct was a true one.
Barron had resumed his seat, and was automatically lifting a small book which lay on a table near him and letting it fall, while Meynell was speaking. When Meynell paused, he said thickly "A plausible tale no doubt and a very convenient one for you. But allow me to point out, it rests entirely on East's word.
Scud was East's nickname, or Black, as we called it, gained by his fleetness of foot. "Yes," said East, "if you like, only mind my foot." "And here's another who didn't hide. Hullo! new boy; what's your name, sir?" "Brown." "Well, Whitey Brown, you don't mind being tossed?" "No," said Tom, setting his teeth.
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