"We can prevent it if my father will adopt your suggestion," added Deck.
"My suggestion! I haven't got any suggestion, and I don't know what you are talking about, Deck," replied Tom, puzzled with the remark. "All the way I can see to manage this affair is to rush at the ruffians and drive them off."
"We don't want to drive them off till we have given them a little wholesome discipline. I suppose you know what a flank movement is, fellow-soldier?"
"I have an idea what it is."
"We used to practise it when we were snowballing on sides away up in the glorious State of New Hampshire, if we got a chance to do it."
"We don't practise snowballing much down here, and I never was engaged in a flank movement at a snowball match. But I have an idea that it is getting around the enemy, whether in a battle or a game, and taking them on the side or in the rear."
"You could not have stated it any better if you had been studying the art of war or the science of snowballing all your lifetime," added Deck.
"Be a little more serious, Mr. Lyon, and I shall understand you better," said Tom, looking very grave himself.
"I will be as serious as the parson at a funeral, Mr. Belthorpe. We have plenty of men to flank them handsomely; for it don't take a great crowd with seven-shooters in their hands to hold that gang where they are."
"I see what you mean now."