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- Джон Стейнбек
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"
No
.
I
chew
when
I
can
get
it
.
"
Mac
rolled
himself
a
slender
cigarette
in
the
brown
paper
.
He
raised
the
lantern
chimney
to
light
the
cigarette
.
"
You
ought
to
get
in
a
nap
,
London
.
Christ
knows
what
’
s
going
to
happen
tonight
.
I
’
ve
got
to
go
in
town
and
find
a
mailbox
.
"
"
You
might
get
caught
.
"
"
No
,
I
won
’
t
.
I
’
ll
go
in
through
the
orchards
.
I
won
’
t
even
get
seen
.
"
He
stared
past
London
,
at
the
back
of
the
tent
.
London
swung
around
.
The
tent
wall
bellied
up
from
the
bottom
,
and
Sam
wriggled
in
,
and
stood
up
.
He
was
muddy
,
and
his
clothes
were
torn
.
A
long
cut
extended
down
his
lean
cheek
.
His
lips
were
drawn
back
with
fatigue
,
and
his
eyes
were
sunken
.
"
I
on
’
y
got
a
minute
,
"
he
said
softly
.
"
Jesus
,
what
a
job
!
You
got
a
lot
of
guards
out
.
I
didn
’
t
want
nobody
to
see
me
.
Somebody
’
d
double
-
cross
us
sure
.
"
"
You
done
it
nice
,
"
Mac
said
.
"
We
seen
the
fire
.
"
"
Sure
.
Damn
near
the
whole
house
gone
.
But
that
ain
’
t
it
.
"
He
looked
nervously
at
Jim
,
sleeping
on
the
mattress
.
"
I
—
got
caught
.
"
"
Th
’
hell
!
"
"
Yeah
,
they
grabbed
me
and
got
a
look
at
me
.
"
"
You
oughtn
’
t
to
be
here
,
"
London
said
severely
.
