Phil gave the wrists a skillful twist, which brought another howl
from Snowden, this time a howl of pain.
"I am not looking for trouble, sir. Will you listen to reason?"
urged the lad.
"I'll--I'll--"
Snowden did not finish what he had started to say. Instead he
moaned with pain, writhing helplessly in the iron grip of
Phil Forrest.
"Do you give up? Have you had enough?"
"_No!_" gritted the car manager.
The Circus Boy tightened his grip ever so little.
"How about it?"
"Give him an extra twist for me," shouted Teddy.
"I give in! Let go quick! You'll break my wrists!"
"You promise to carry this thing no further if I release you?"
"I said I have had enough," cried Snowden angrily.
"That won't do. Will you agree to let me alone, if I release
you now?" persisted Phil.
"Yes, yes! I've had all I want. This joke has gone far enough."
"Joke?"
"Yes."
"You have a queer idea of jokes," smiled Phil, releasing his man
and stepping back, but keeping a wary eye on the car manager,
as the latter settled back into a chair, rubbing his wrists.
They still pained him severely.
"I am sorry if I hurt you, Mr. Snowden. But I had to defend
myself in some way. I could have been much more violent, but I
did not wish to be unnecessarily so."
"You were rough enough.
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