"Soak him one, Tony, the tight-wad!"
"Sue him for the penny, Grandpa. I'll go witness for you."
"Aw, give him his penny, Mike. He needs a new lid." And so on.
"Gimme my penny!"
"Ain't no penny comin' to yeh!"
Finally the old man threw the apple back on the tray. "I won't deal with you at all!" he cried. "You're a robber! Gimme my money back!"
"You bruised it!" cried the Syrian tragically. "I don't take back no spoiled goods. Leave it lay at your own risk!"
"Gimme back my money!" cried the old man undaunted.
A grimy little hand slid out from the crowd and closed over the disputed apple. In the flick of a whip it was gone, and no man could say where. The crowd rocked with laughter.
The vendor shrugged. "Ain't my loss. It's his apple."