"You'll get me outside and into a telephone booth, eh? My dear
sir, that is old stuff."

The rest of the party were on their feet instantly, watching the
struggle and crowding forward with angry exclamations. Ringold,
with the man's two wrists locked securely in his own huge paw, was
growling:

"Smooth way to do up a fellow, I call it."

"All the way from St. Louis for a telephone call, eh?" Anthony
sank his thumbs into the stranger's throat, then, as the man's
face grew black and his contortions diminished, added: "We're
going to make a good waiter out of you."

Jefferson Locke broke in excitedly: "Choke him good! Choke him!
That's right. Put him out for keeps. For God's sake, don't let him
go!"

But it was not Kirk's idea to strangle his victim beyond a certain
point. He relaxed his grip after a moment and, nodding to Ringold
to do likewise, took the fellow's wrists himself, then swung him
about until he faced the others. The man's lungs filled with fresh
air, he began to struggle once more, and when his voice had
returned he gasped:

"I'll get you for this. You'll do a trick--" He mumbled a name
that did not sound at all like Jefferson Locke, whereupon the
Missourian made a rush at him that required the full strength of