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- Джон Стейнбек
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The
checker
answered
,
"
You
take
those
men
off
this
land
or
I
’
ll
have
the
whole
bunch
of
you
run
in
.
"
The
derisive
yell
began
again
,
and
the
shrill
whistling
.
Sam
turned
angrily
.
"
Shut
up
,
you
crazy
bastards
.
Lay
off
the
music
.
"
The
pickers
looked
about
for
a
retreat
.
The
checker
reassured
them
.
"
Don
’
t
let
him
scare
you
,
men
.
You
’
ve
got
a
right
to
work
if
you
want
to
.
"
Sam
called
again
,
"
Listen
,
guys
,
we
’
re
givin
’
you
this
chance
to
come
along
with
us
.
"
"
Don
’
t
let
him
bully
you
,
"
the
checker
cried
.
His
voice
was
rising
.
"
They
can
’
t
tell
a
man
what
he
’
s
got
to
do
.
"
The
pickers
stood
still
.
"
You
comin
’
?
"
Sam
demanded
.
They
didn
’
t
answer
.
Sam
began
to
move
slowly
toward
them
.
The
checker
stepped
forward
.
"
There
’
s
a
buckshot
in
this
gun
.
I
’
ll
shoot
you
if
you
don
’
t
get
off
.
"
Sam
spoke
softly
as
he
moved
.
"
You
ain
’
t
shootin
’
nobody
,
fella
.
You
might
get
one
of
us
,
and
the
rest
’
d
slaughter
you
.
"
His
voice
was
low
and
passionless
.
His
men
moved
along
,
ten
feet
behind
him
.
He
stopped
,
directly
in
front
of
the
checker
.
The
quivering
gun
pointed
at
his
chest
.
"
We
just
want
to
talk
,
"
he
said
,
and
with
one
movement
he
stooped
and
dived
,
like
a
football
tackle
,
and
clipped
the
feet
from
under
the
checker
.
The
gun
exploded
,
and
dug
a
pit
in
the
ground
.
Sam
spun
over
and
drove
his
knees
between
the
legs
of
the
checker
.
Then
he
jumped
up
,
leaving
the
man
,
writhing
and
crying
hoarsely
,
on
the
ground
.
For
a
second
both
the
pickers
and
the
strikers
had
stood
still
.
Too
late
the
pickers
turned
to
run
.
Men
swarmed
on
them
,
cursing
in
their
throats
.
The
pickers
fought
for
a
moment
,
and
then
went
down
.
Jim
stood
a
little
apart
;
he
saw
a
picker
wriggle
free
and
start
to
run
.
He
picked
up
a
heavy
clod
and
hurled
it
at
the
man
,
struck
him
in
the
small
of
the
back
,
and
brought
him
down
.
The
group
surrounded
the
fallen
man
,
feet
working
,
kicking
and
stamping
;
and
the
picker
screamed
from
the
ground
.
Jim
looked
coldly
at
the
checker
.
His
face
was
white
with
agony
and
wet
with
the
perspiration
of
pain
.
Sam
broke
free
and
leaped
at
the
kicking
,
stamping
men
.
"
Lay
off
,
God
-
damn
you
,
lay
off
,
"
he
yelled
at
them
;
and
still
they
kicked
,
growling
in
their
throats
.
Their
lips
were
wet
with
saliva
.
Sam
picked
an
apple
box
from
the
pile
and
smashed
it
over
a
head
.
"
Don
’
t
kill
’
em
,
"
he
shouted
.
"
Don
’
t
kill
’
em
.
"
The
fury
departed
as
quickly
as
it
had
come
.
They
stood
away
from
the
victims
.
They
panted
heavily
.
Jim
looked
without
emotion
at
the
ten
moaning
men
on
the
ground
,
their
faces
kicked
shapeless
.
Here
a
lip
was
torn
away
,
exposing
bloody
teeth
and
gums
;
one
man
cried
like
a
child
because
his
arm
was
bent
sharply
backward
,
broken
at
the
elbow
.
