Peterson had succeeded in avoiding the head of his house so far, but was filled with anxiety.

Dick easily persuaded all three to accompany him to the mine, there to discuss the situation and plot a fitting revenge.
His proposal was that they should all turn bushrangers on the spot, form a band to ravage and lay waste the country, and visit upon society the just consequences of its rashness and folly in tyrannising over its boys, misunderstanding them, and misconstruing their highest and noblest intentions.
'When anyone shakes our goats, ain't we a right to demand 'em back at the point o' the sword ?' asked Dick indignantly.
The boys were unanimous.

They had such a right--nay, it was a bounden duty.
'Very well, then, what'd they wanter lick us fer ?' continued Dick.

'Won't they be sorry when they hear about us turnin' bushrangers, that's all! 'D'ye really think they will, though ?' asked Jacker McKnight dubiously.
He had found his parents very unromantic people, who took a severely commonplace view of things, and retained unquestioning faith in the strap as a means of elevating the youthful idea.
'Why, o' course!' cried Dick.

'When our mothers read in the papers 'bout the lives we're leadin', it'll make 'em cry all night 'cause o' the way we've been treated; an' you coves' fathers'll hear tell o' yer great adventures, an' they'll know what sort o' chaps they knocked about an' abused, an' they'll respect you an' wish you was back home so's they could make up for the fatal past.' Jacker looked doubtful still; he could not imagine his parents in that character; but Peterson was delighted with the prospect, and Phil Doon, whose mother was a large, stout woman, who spent half her day in bed reading sentimental stories, was quite impressed, and enlisted on the spot.
'You'll be my lieutenant, you know, Jacker,' said Dick; 'an' we'll call you Fork Lightnin'.' 'Hoo! Will you, though ?' cried Jacker.
Dick nodded and made an affirmative noise between his closed lips.
'Fork Lightnin',' said Jacker, trying the name.