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"
Poor
devil
,
"
said
Jim
.
Mac
drew
his
bundle
of
envelopes
from
his
pocket
and
collected
five
in
different
handwritings
.
"
Well
,
Joy
just
never
learned
to
keep
his
mouth
shut
.
Look
at
Dick
.
Not
a
mark
on
him
.
And
that
pretty
Dick
’
s
just
as
tough
as
Joy
is
when
there
’
s
some
good
in
it
.
But
just
as
soon
as
Dick
gets
picked
up
he
starts
calling
the
cops
‘
sir
,
’
and
they
got
him
sitting
in
their
laps
before
he
gets
through
with
them
.
Joy
’
s
got
no
more
sense
than
a
bulldog
.
"
They
found
the
last
of
four
mail
boxes
on
the
edge
of
Lincoln
Square
,
and
after
Mac
had
deposited
his
letters
the
two
of
them
strolled
slowly
up
the
brick
walk
.
The
maples
were
beginning
to
drop
leaves
on
the
path
.
Only
a
few
of
the
benches
along
the
walks
were
occupied
.
The
high
-
hung
park
lights
were
on
now
,
casting
black
patterns
of
the
trees
on
the
ground
.
Not
far
from
the
center
of
the
square
stood
a
statue
of
a
bearded
man
in
a
frock
coat
.
Jim
pointed
to
it
.
"
I
was
standing
up
on
that
pedestal
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
was
trying
to
see
what
was
going
on
.
A
cop
must
’
ve
reached
up
and
swatted
me
the
way
a
man
swats
a
fly
.
I
knew
a
little
how
Joy
feels
.
It
was
four
or
five
days
before
I
could
think
straight
.
Little
pictures
went
flying
through
my
head
,
and
I
couldn
’
t
quite
catch
them
.
Right
in
the
back
of
the
neck
I
got
it
.
"
Mac
turned
to
a
bench
and
sat
down
.
"
I
know
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
read
Harry
’
s
report
.
Is
that
the
only
reason
you
wanted
to
join
the
Party
?
"
"
No
,
"
said
Jim
.
"
When
I
got
in
jail
,
there
were
five
other
men
in
the
same
cell
,
picked
up
at
the
same
time
—
a
Mexican
and
a
Negro
and
a
Jew
and
a
couple
of
plain
mongrel
Americans
like
me
.
’
Course
they
talked
to
me
,
but
it
wasn
’
t
that
.
I
’
d
read
more
than
they
knew
.
"
He
picked
up
a
maple
leaf
from
the
ground
and
began
carefully
stripping
the
covering
from
the
hand
-
like
skeleton
.
"
Look
,
"
he
said
.
"
All
the
time
at
home
we
were
fighting
,
fighting
something
—
hunger
mostly
.
My
old
man
was
fighting
the
bosses
.
I
was
fighting
the
school
.
But
always
we
lost
.
And
after
a
long
time
I
guess
it
got
to
be
part
of
our
mind
-
stuff
that
we
always
would
lose
.
My
old
man
was
fighting
just
like
a
cat
in
a
corner
with
a
pack
of
dogs
around
.
Sooner
or
later
a
dog
was
sure
to
kill
him
;
but
he
fought
anyway
.
Can
you
see
the
hopelessness
in
that
?
I
grew
up
in
that
hopelessness
.
"
"
Sure
,
I
can
see
,
"
Mac
said
.
"
There
’
s
millions
of
people
with
just
that
.
"
Jim
waved
the
stripped
leaf
in
front
of
him
,
and
spun
it
between
his
thumb
and
forefinger
.
"
There
was
more
than
that
to
it
,
"
he
said
.
"
The
house
where
we
lived
was
always
filled
with
anger
.
Anger
hung
in
the
house
like
smoke
;
that
beaten
,
vicious
anger
against
the
boss
,
against
the
superintendent
,
against
the
groceryman
when
he
cut
off
credit
.
It
was
an
anger
that
made
you
sick
to
your
stomach
,
but
you
couldn
’
t
help
it
.
"
"
Go
on
,
"
said
Mac
.
"
I
don
’
t
see
where
you
’
re
getting
,
but
maybe
you
do
.
"
Jim
jumped
up
and
stood
in
front
of
the
bench
and
whipped
the
leaf
skeleton
across
his
palm
.
"
I
’
m
getting
to
this
:
In
that
cell
were
five
men
all
raised
in
about
the
same
condition
.
Some
of
them
worse
,
even
.
And
while
there
was
anger
in
them
,
it
wasn
’
t
the
same
kind
of
anger
.
They
didn
’
t
hate
a
boss
or
a
butcher
.
They
hated
the
whole
system
of
bosses
,
but
that
was
a
different
thing
.
It
wasn
’
t
the
same
kind
of
anger
.
And
there
was
something
else
,
Mac
.
The
hopelessness
wasn
’
t
in
them
.
They
were
quiet
,
and
they
were
working
;
but
in
the
back
of
every
mind
there
was
conviction
that
sooner
or
later
they
would
win
their
way
out
of
the
system
they
hated
.
I
tell
you
,
there
was
a
kind
of
peacefulness
about
those
men
.
"
"
Are
you
trying
to
convert
me
?
"
Mac
asked
sarcastically
.
