"Ask him something else," one of his companions suggested.
"Is this your place?" the man once more roared.
"Is this my face?" Abner queried. "Sure, whose de ye s'pose it is?"
"Your place," the man roared again.
"Oh, place. Well, why didn't ye say so? Sartinly, it's my place. What de ye want to know fer?"
"Will you sell?"
"Have I a well? Yes, and a good one, too. De ye want a drink?"
The other three occupants of the car were highly amused, and made all kinds of remarks.
"Speak louder, Tom," one advised. "You're only whispering."
"Speak yourself, then," was the retort. "Don't you see I'm splitting my lungs shouting to the old fool?"