Issachar, when he had the opportunity, was a hard boss. It suited Mr. Price to display his superior knowledge and to find fault with his helper's lack of skill. Albert's hot temper was at the boiling point many times, but he fought it down. Occasionally he retorted in kind, but his usual and most effective weapon was a more or less delicate sarcasm. Issachar did not understand sarcasm and under rapid fire he was inclined to lose his head. “Consarn it!” he snapped, irritably, on one occasion. “Consarn it, Al, why don't you h'ist up on t'other end of that j'ist? What do you cal'late you're out here along of me for; to look harnsome?” Albert shook his head. “No, Is,” he answered, gravely. “No, that wouldn't be any use. With you around nobody else has a look-in at the 'handsome' game. Issy, what do you do to your face?” “Do to it? What do you mean by do to it?” “What do you do to it to make it look the way it does? Don't tell me it grew that way naturally.” “Grew! Course it grew! What kind of talk's that?” “Issy, with a face like yours how do you keep the birds away?” “Eh? Keep the birds away! Now look here, just--” “Excuse me. Did I say 'birds,' Issy? I didn't mean birds like--like crows. Of course a face like yours would keep the crows away all right enough. I meant girls. How do you keep the girls away? I should think they would be making love all the time.” “Aw, you shut up! Just 'cause you're Cap'n Lote's grandson I presume likely you think you can talk any kind of talk, don't ye?” “Not any kind, Is. I can't talk like you. Will you teach me?” “Shut up! Now, by Crimus, you--you furriner--you Speranzy--” Mr. Keeler appeared at the office window. His shrill voice rose pipingly in the wintry air as he demanded to know what was the trouble out there. Mr. Price, still foaming, strode toward the window; Albert laughingly followed him. “What's the matter?” repeated Laban. “There's enough noise for a sewin' circle. Be still, Is, can't you, for a minute. Al, what's the trouble?” “Issy's been talking about his face,” explained Albert, soberly. “I ain't neither. I was h'istin' up my end of a j'ist, same as I'm paid to do, and, 'stead of helpin' he stands there and heaves out talk about--about--” “Well, about what?” “Aw, about--about me and--and girls--and all sorts of dum foolishness. I tell ye, I've got somethin' else to do beside listen to that kind of cheap talk.” “Um. Yes, yes. I see. Well, Al, what have you got to say?” “Nothing. I'm sure I don't know what it is all about. I was working as hard as I could and all at once he began pitching into me.” “Pitchin' into you? How?” “Oh, I don't know. Something about my looks he didn't like, I guess. Wanted to know if I thought I was as handsome as he was, or something like that.” “Eh? I never neither! All I said was--”