Phil halted with unexpected suddenness and dropped on all fours.

The canvasman was too close to check his own speed. He fell over
Phil, landing on his head and shoulders in the dirt.

The lad was up like a flash. Larry was close upon him now, and
with a snarl of rage launched a blow full at Phil Forrest's face.
But he had not reckoned on the lad's agility, nor did he know
that Phil was a trained athlete. Therefore, Larry's surprise was
great when his fist beat the empty air.

Thrown off his balance, Larry measured his length on the ground.

"I advise you to let me alone," warned Phil coolly, as the
tentman was scrambling to his feet. Already Larry's companion
had gotten up and was gazing at Phil in a half dazed sort of way.

"Get hold of him, Bad Eye! What are you standing there like a
dummy for? He'll run in a minute."

Phil's better judgment told him to do that very thing, but he
could not bring himself to run from danger. Much as he disliked
a row, he was too plucky and courageous to run from danger.

Bad Eye was rushing at him, his eyes blazing with anger.

Phil side-stepped easily, avoiding his antagonist without the
least difficulty. But now he had to reckon with Larry, who,
by this time, had gotten to his feet.