temper was in the least ruffled.

The chair rung was brought down with a vicious sweep, but to
Snowden's surprise the weapon failed to reach the head of the
smiling Circus Boy.

Then Phil got into action.

Like a flash he leaped forward, and the car manager found his
wrists clasped in a vise-like grip.

"Let go of me!" he roared, struggling with all his might to free
himself, failing in which he began to kick.

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.