"That Crusoe idea. We can get the raft next Saturday, and easily peg out a desert island on the other side of the river. I shan't want to dress up much. I've got a ragged jacket which'll be near enough for skins, and a soft felt which I can cut round the brim with Mrs. Trounce's scissors. That'll do for the hat."
"Whose hat?"
"Crusoe's hat, of course."
"And who's going to wear it?"
"Who's going to wear it?" Plunger's eyebrows disappeared into the roots of his hair in amazement at the question. "I am, of course!"
"You mean that you're going to be Crusoe?"
"Of course!"
And Plunger's eyebrows remained so high up in the roots of his hair at the bare idea of anybody else playing the part that it seemed as though they would never come down again.
"Well, but where do I come in?"
"You can be Friday or an Indian."