"No. I'll not shake hands with you. I want nothing further to do with you. Either you get off this car, or I do. We can't both live on it at the same time."
"So far as I am concerned, we can do so easily," answered the
Circus Boy.
"I said either you or I would have to get off, and I mean exactly what I said."
The manager wheeled his chair about, facing his desk, and wrote the following telegram:
Mr. James Sparling,
Saginaw, Michigan.
I demand that you call back the two boys who joined my car today.
Either they close or I do. They're a couple of young ruffians.
If they remain another day I'll not be responsible for what I do
to them.
Snowden.
The car manager handed the message to Phil. "Read it," he snapped.
Phil glanced through the message, smiling broadly as he returned it to the manager.