The boys had been working but a few minutes when Tom joined them.
“Sure and we’ll soon be all clogged up here,” he declared as he surveyed the ever growing piles. “I’ve a half a mind to begin cuttin’ on the big tract. Yer know it runs down close ter the lake and we could cut thar fer two or three days wid no hauling necessary at all. It would give Jim time ter catch up wid his job here a bit. What do yez think about it?”
“I’m afraid it would mean a fight with Big Ben,” Bob said slowly, as he took off his cap to wipe his forehead.
“What of it?” Jack asked impulsively. “I’ll bet we could lick ’em.”
“What do you think about it yourself, Tom?” Bob asked, ignoring his brother’s remark, much to Jack’s disgust.
“Well, I dunno,” and the big Irishman scratched his head reflectively. “Mebby he’d foight and then again mebby he wouldn’t. Sure and it’s about a toss up I’m a thinkin’.”
“We might make a start at it, and if we see that he means to fight we could take back water I suppose,” Bob said.
“That’s the talk, all but that back water stuff,” Jack broke in joyously.
“I believe it’s worth tryin’,” Tom said, “but we won’t change till after dinner.”
During the noon meal Tom explained the plan to the men and warned them that, in case Big Ben and his crew should interfere, there was to be no fighting unless he should give the word.