"I bet yer I would," Abe declared. "An up-to-date feller like you, Kleebaum, is different already from an old-timer like me. I got a wife, Kleebaum, and also I don't carry a whole lot of insurance neither, y'understand."
"Come off, Potash!" Kleebaum cried. "I rode myself in oitermobiles already millions of times and I ain't never been hurted yet."
"Some people's got all the luck, Kleebaum," Abe replied. "With me I bet yer if I would ride in an oitermobile once, y'understand, the least that would happen to me is I should break my neck."
"How could you break your neck in a brand new
car like that Pfingst car downstairs?" Kleebaum insisted.
"Never mind," Abe answered, "if things is going to turn out that way, Mr. Kleebaum, you could break your neck in a baby carriage yet."
"Well, don't get mad about it, Potash," Kleebaum said.
"Me, I don't get mad so easy," Abe declared. "Wouldn't you come downstairs to Hammersmith's and take a cup coffee or something?"
Together they descended to the sidewalk where they were saluted by a tremendous chugging from the Pfingst roadster.
"Say, my friend," the demonstrating chauffeur cried as he caught sight of Kleebaum, "what d'ye think I'm running anyway? A taxicab?"