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- Джон Стейнбек
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"
Well
,
thanks
for
the
loan
of
your
knife
.
"
Mac
helped
Jim
a
little
as
he
got
into
the
truck
and
moved
over
against
Albert
Johnson
.
The
shirt
sleeve
on
Albert
’
s
right
arm
was
red
to
the
shoulder
with
blood
.
Albert
started
his
slow
,
chugging
motor
and
moved
carefully
over
the
rough
road
.
At
the
gate
the
traffic
cop
waited
for
them
,
and
when
they
got
out
on
the
county
road
he
followed
a
little
way
behind
.
The
men
on
the
sacks
started
to
sing
.
"
Soup
,
soup
,
give
us
some
soup
—
We
don
’
t
want
nothing
but
just
some
soup
.
"
The
cop
grinned
at
them
.
One
of
the
men
chanted
at
him
,
"
Whoops
my
dear
,
whoops
my
dear
,
Even
the
chief
of
police
is
queer
.
"
In
the
cab
,
Mac
leaned
forward
and
spoke
across
Jim
.
"
Albert
,
we
want
to
dodge
the
town
.
We
got
to
get
this
stuff
to
the
camp
.
See
if
you
can
sort
of
edge
around
it
,
will
you
,
even
if
it
’
s
longer
?
"
Albert
nodded
morosely
.
The
sun
shone
now
,
but
it
was
high
,
and
there
was
no
warmth
in
it
.
Jim
said
,
"
This
ought
to
make
the
guys
feel
fine
.
"
Albert
nodded
again
.
"
Let
’
em
get
their
guts
full
of
meat
,
and
they
’
ll
go
to
sleep
.
"
Mac
laughed
.
"
I
’
m
surprised
at
you
,
Albert
.
Haven
’
t
you
got
no
idears
about
the
nobility
of
labor
?
"
