"Oh, yes," said Jasper, summoning all the cheerfulness he could muster to his aid. "Come, it's the very thing to do, if you really want to help your Grandfather."
Tom raised his head and looked at him. "I never supposed the old man was sick," he said brokenly, and down went his head again, this time upon his hands, which were grasping the top of the chair.
"I don't believe you did," answered Jasper. "But come, Tom, let's walk around the deck; we can talk just as well meanwhile."
Two or three young men, with cigarettes in their mouths, came sauntering up. "Tom Selwyn, you're a pretty fellow—"
Tom raised his head and looked at them defiantly.
"To give us the slip like this," cried one, with a sneer, in which the others joined, with a curious look at Jasper.
"Well, come on now," said one. "Yes—yes—come along," said another; "we've waited long enough for you to get back."
"I'm not coming," declared Tom, shortly.
"Not coming back? Well—" One of the young men said something under his breath, and the first speaker turned on his heel, tossing his cigarette over the railing.
"No," said Tom, "I'm not coming. Did you hear me?"