"All right, Abner, I'm game," Zeb agreed. "But be careful."
"Oh, I'll be as keerful as I was with Joe Preston. You jist go on with the work as if ye didn't hear nuthin', an' let me handle this show. But, say, they're runnin' the car into the yard. What impudence!"
When a short distance away from the back door the auto was stopped, and the man who had previously spoken asked why in the devil no one had answered when spoken to. Zeb was hard at work, thus leaving Abner to face the irritated man.
"Didn't you hear what I said?" the stranger roared.
"Hey?" Abner asked, coming close to the car, and putting his left hand up to his ear.
"Why, the old fool's deaf!" the man exclaimed, turning to his companions. "Good Lord! Have I got to yell everything to him! Look here," he shouted, leaning well over the side of the car, "are you Abner Andrews?"
"Oh, huntin' rabbits, are ye?" Abner's face cleared as he spoke. "Well, ye've come to a poor place, an' it's the wrong time of the year, anyway. Better wait till winter. They're good eatin' then."
"I didn't say 'rabbits,'" the man again yelled. "I said 'are you Abner Andrews?'"
"Don't mention it. I allus like to give a lift if I kin. But I advise yez to wait till winter," Abner solemnly replied.
"Oh, h—l!" the man exclaimed in disgust. "What am I to do? He's stone deaf."