"Be careful," was the reply. "Don't shoot. Here they come agin."
As the car was almost opposite the workshop, and the youths were about to make another bombardment, Abner stepped quickly out of the building and ordered them to stop. As the driver hesitated for an instant, Abner threw his gun into position and threatened to shoot if he did not obey. This had the desired effect, and soon the car was motionless.
The occupants were speechless, and their faces betrayed their complete consternation at this sudden turn of affairs. They dropped the eggs, mud, and stones they had ready to hurl, and stared at the man with the gun.
"Why don't yez go ahead?" Abner asked. "Now's ye'r chance. Tired of ye'r fun, eh? Well, then, jist hop out an' run that Tin-Lizzie into the yard here. Git a hustle on," he ordered, as the youths hesitated.
Seeing that Abner meant business, the joy-riders scrambled out and stood in the road while the car was run into the yard.
"There, that's better," was Abner's comment, when this had been accomplished. "Now, yez kin hustle."
"But what about the car?" the driver asked, as he alighted. "It doesn't belong to us. We hired it."
"Yez did, eh? Well, then, it's safer here than with sich reckless kids. Scoot along now. I'll keep the car fer damages rendered to that buildin' an' to my dignity."
"Damages!" the driver exclaimed. "Why, we were only having a little fun."
"Is that so? Fun, was it? Well, ye'r fun'll cost ye jist five dollars apiece, an' not a cent less. I'm a specialist, ye see, on all kinds of diseases. You fellers are troubled with swelled heads an' want of brains, so five dollars out of y'er inside pockets will be the best cure that I kin recommend."