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"
It
’
s
a
funny
thing
,
"
the
preacher
said
.
"
I
was
thinkin
’
about
ol
’
Tom
Joad
when
you
come
along
.
Thinkin
’
I
’
d
call
in
on
him
.
I
used
to
think
he
was
a
godless
man
.
How
is
Tom
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
how
he
is
.
I
ain
’
t
been
home
in
four
years
.
"
"
Didn
’
t
he
write
to
you
?
"
Joad
was
embarrassed
.
"
Well
,
Pa
wasn
’
t
no
hand
to
write
for
pretty
,
or
to
write
for
writin
’
.
He
’
d
sign
up
his
name
as
nice
as
anybody
,
an
’
lick
his
pencil
.
But
Pa
never
did
write
no
letters
.
He
always
says
what
he
couldn
’
tell
a
fella
with
his
mouth
wasn
’
t
worth
leanin
’
on
no
pencil
about
.
"
"
Been
out
travelin
’
around
?
"
Casy
asked
.
Joad
regarded
him
suspiciously
.
"
Didn
’
t
you
hear
about
me
?
I
was
in
all
the
papers
.
"
"
No
—
I
never
.
What
?
"
He
jerked
one
leg
over
the
other
and
settled
lower
against
the
tree
.
The
afternoon
was
advancing
rapidly
,
and
a
richer
tone
was
growing
on
the
sun
.
Joad
said
pleasantly
,
"
Might
’
s
well
tell
you
now
an
’
get
it
over
with
.
But
if
you
was
still
preachin
’
I
wouldn
’
t
tell
,
fear
you
get
prayin
’
over
me
.
"
He
drained
the
last
of
the
pint
and
flung
it
from
him
,
and
the
flat
brown
bottle
skidded
lightly
over
the
dust
.
"
I
been
in
McAlester
them
four
years
.
"
Casy
swung
around
to
him
,
and
his
brows
lowered
so
that
his
tall
forehead
seemed
even
taller
.
"
Ain
’
t
wantin
’
to
talk
about
it
,
huh
?
I
won
’
t
ask
you
no
questions
,
if
you
done
something
bad
—
"
"
I
’
d
do
what
I
done
—
again
,
"
said
Joad
.
"
I
killed
a
guy
in
a
fight
.
We
was
drunk
at
a
dance
.
He
got
a
knife
in
me
,
an
’
I
killed
him
with
a
shovel
that
was
layin
’
there
.
Knocked
his
head
plumb
to
squash
.
"
