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- Джон Стейнбек
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Jim
opened
his
eyes
and
looked
up
into
Mac
’
s
face
.
"
I
’
m
dizzy
,
"
he
said
plaintively
.
"
I
wish
Doc
would
come
back
and
give
me
something
.
Do
you
think
he
’
ll
come
back
,
Mac
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
.
How
do
you
feel
now
?
"
"
Just
dizzy
.
I
guess
I
’
ve
shot
my
wad
until
I
rest
.
"
"
Sure
.
You
ought
to
go
to
sleep
.
I
’
m
going
out
and
try
to
rustle
some
of
the
soup
that
meat
was
cooked
in
.
That
’
ll
be
good
for
you
.
You
just
lie
still
until
I
bring
it
.
"
When
he
was
gone
,
Jim
looked
,
frowning
,
at
the
top
of
the
tent
.
He
said
aloud
,
"
I
wonder
if
it
passed
off
.
I
don
’
t
think
it
did
,
but
maybe
.
"
And
then
his
eyes
closed
,
and
he
went
to
sleep
.
When
Mac
came
in
with
the
soup
,
he
set
it
on
the
ground
.
He
took
the
box
from
under
Jim
’
s
legs
and
then
sat
down
on
the
edge
of
the
mattress
and
watched
the
drawn
,
sleeping
face
.
The
face
was
never
still
.
The
lips
crept
back
until
the
teeth
were
exposed
,
until
the
teeth
were
dry
;
and
then
the
lips
drew
down
and
covered
them
.
The
cheeks
around
the
eyes
twitched
nervously
.
Once
,
as
though
striving
against
weight
,
Jim
’
s
lips
opened
to
speak
and
worked
on
a
word
,
but
only
a
growling
mumble
was
said
.
Mac
pulled
the
old
coverlets
over
Jim
’
s
body
.
Suddenly
the
lamp
flame
was
sucked
down
,
the
wick
and
darkness
crept
in
toward
the
center
of
the
tent
.
Mac
jumped
up
and
found
a
spout
-
can
of
kerosene
.
He
unscrewed
the
lantern
cap
and
filled
the
reservoir
.
Slowly
the
flame
grew
up
again
,
and
its
edges
spread
out
like
a
butterfly
’
s
wings
.
Outside
,
the
slow
footsteps
of
patrolling
men
went
by
.
In
the
distance
there
could
be
heard
the
grumble
of
the
great
night
cargo
trucks
on
the
highway
.
Mac
took
down
the
lantern
from
the
tent
-
pole
and
carried
it
to
the
mattress
and
set
it
on
the
ground
.
From
his
hip
pocket
he
brought
out
a
packet
of
folded
papers
and
a
mussy
stamped
envelope
and
a
broken
piece
of
pencil
.
With
the
paper
on
his
knee
he
wrote
slowly
,
in
large
,
round
letters
:
Dear
Harry
:
