“Here? Work HERE? ME? Well, I—should—say—NOT!”
“Oh, excuse me. I thought you must be a new bookkeeper, or—or a new partner, or something.”
Albert regarded her intently and suspiciously for some seconds before making another remark. She was as demurely grave as ever, but his suspicions were again aroused. However, she WAS pretty, there could be no doubt about that.
“Maybe I can find the hook for you,” he said. “I can try, anyway.”
“Oh, thank you ever so much,” gratefully. “It's VERY kind of you to take so much trouble.”
“Oh,” airily, “that's all right. Come on; perhaps we can find it together.”
They were still looking when Mr. Price came panting in.
“Whew!” he observed, with emphasis. “If anybody tells you heavin' bundles of laths aboard a truck-wagon ain't hard work you tell him for me he's a liar, will ye. Whew! And I had to do the heft of everything, 'cause Cahoon sent that one-armed nephew of his to drive the team. A healthy lot of good a one-armed man is to help heave lumber! I says to him, says I: 'What in time did—' Eh? Why, hello, Helen! Good mornin'. Land sakes! you're out airly, ain't ye?”
The young lady nodded. “Good morning, Issachar,” she said. “Yes, I am pretty early and I'm in a dreadful hurry. The wind blew our kitchen door back against the house last night and broke the hook. I promised Father I would run over here and get him a new one and bring it back to him before I went to school. And it's quarter to nine now.”
“Land sakes, so 'tis! Ain't—er—er—what's-his-name—Albert here, found it for you yet? He ain't no kind of a hand to find things, is he? We'll have to larn him better'n that. Yes indeed!”