The apples were small and not very juicy, and the boys soon found that there was quite a little work connected with the manufacture of cider in commercial quantities. But they did manage to make a glassful apiece before they were compelled to knock off for the noon hour.
The partners went out by the back door, which they fastened shut with a piece of board; and as they walked home they made plans for the future conduct of their business.
"We got to put on a few hands to pick up the apples while we run the mill, if we want to increase our produck," Sube informed his partner gravely. "There's too much overhead for us to handle alone."
"I'd say there was too much underfoot," returned Gizzard with equal gravity. "What we want is apples—"
"I guess you don't understand much about bus'ness," was Sube's lofty comment. "Overhead's a reg'lar bus'ness word that means—means somethin' special."
Gizzard defended his position heatedly. "I guess I know jus' much about it as you do!" he retorted. "Underfoot's a reg'lar word, too! And it means some'pm special! I've heard my dad use it a hundred times."
For a moment Sube maintained a discreet silence. He wanted to avoid having trouble with his partner at the very beginning of their business career if it could be done with honor; especially as the title to the business was somewhat clouded. Then he said diplomatically:
"Well, anyway, we got to put on a few more hands to pick up apples."
"Right you are," agreed Gizzard. "Who we goin' to get?"
"Oh, we might hire Stucky Richards, and Cathead, and Cottontop Sigsbee. S'pose that'll be enough?"