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- Джон Стейнбек
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Tom
regarded
him
with
widened
eyes
,
and
then
he
turned
and
looked
at
a
gray
tent
twenty
feet
away
.
Washed
jeans
and
shirts
and
a
dress
hung
to
dry
on
the
tent
guys
.
He
said
softly
,
«
That
was
about
what
I
was
gonna
tell
ya
.
An
’
you
seen
awready
.
»
«
I
seen
,
"
Casy
agreed
.
«
They
’
s
a
army
of
us
without
no
harness
.
»
He
bowed
his
head
and
ran
his
extended
hand
slowly
up
his
forehead
and
into
his
hair
.
«
All
along
I
seen
it
,
"
he
said
.
«
Ever
’
place
we
stopped
I
seen
it
.
Folks
hungry
for
side
-
meat
,
an
’
when
they
get
it
,
they
ain
’
t
fed
.
An
’
when
they
’
d
get
so
hungry
they
couldn
’
stan
’
it
no
more
,
why
,
they
’
d
ast
me
to
pray
for
’
em
,
an
’
sometimes
I
done
it
.
»
He
clasped
his
hands
around
drawn
-
up
knees
and
pulled
his
legs
in
.
«
I
use
’
ta
think
that
’
d
cut
’
er
,
"
he
said
.
«
Use
’
ta
rip
off
a
prayer
an
’
all
the
troubles
’
d
stick
to
that
prayer
like
flies
on
flypaper
,
an
’
the
prayer
’
d
go
a
-
sailin
’
off
,
a
-
takin
’
them
troubles
along
.
But
don
’
work
no
more
.
»
Tom
said
,
«
Prayer
never
brought
in
no
side
-
meat
.
Takes
a
shoat
to
bring
in
pork
.
»
«
Yeah
,
"
Casy
said
.
«
An
’
Almighty
God
never
raised
no
wages
.
These
here
folks
want
to
live
decent
and
bring
up
their
kids
decent
.
An
’
when
they
’
re
old
they
wanta
set
in
the
door
an
’
watch
the
downing
sun
.
An
’
when
they
’
re
young
they
wanta
dance
an
’
sing
an
’
lay
together
.
They
wanta
eat
an
’
get
drunk
and
work
.
An
’
that
’
s
it
—
they
wanta
jus
’
fling
their
goddamn
muscles
aroun
’
an
’
get
tired
.
Christ
!
What
’
m
I
talkin
’
about
?
»
«
I
dunno
,
"
said
Tom
.
«
Sounds
kinda
nice
.
When
ya
think
you
can
get
ta
work
an
’
quit
thinkin
’
a
spell
?
We
got
to
get
work
.
Money
’
s
’
bout
gone
.
Pa
gives
five
dollars
to
get
a
painted
piece
of
board
stuck
up
over
Granma
.
We
ain
’
t
got
much
lef
’
.
»
A
lean
brown
mongrel
dog
came
sniffing
around
the
side
of
the
tent
.
He
was
nervous
and
flexed
to
run
.
He
sniffed
close
before
he
was
aware
of
the
two
men
,
and
then
looking
up
he
saw
them
,
leaped
sideways
,
and
fled
,
ears
back
,
bony
tail
clamped
protectively
.
Casy
watched
him
go
,
dodging
around
a
tent
to
get
out
of
sight
.
Casy
sighed
.
«
I
ain
’
t
doin
’
nobody
no
good
,
"
he
said
.
«
Me
or
nobody
else
.
I
was
thinkin
’
I
’
d
go
off
alone
by
myself
.
I
’
m
a
-
eatin
’
your
food
an
’
a
-
takin
’
up
room
.
An
’
I
ain
’
t
give
you
nothin
’
.
Maybe
I
could
get
a
steady
job
an
’
maybe
pay
back
some
a
the
stuff
you
’
ve
give
me
.
»
Tom
opened
his
mouth
and
thrust
his
lower
jaw
forward
,
and
he
tapped
his
lower
teeth
with
a
dried
piece
of
mustard
stalk
.
His
eyes
stared
over
the
camp
,
over
the
gray
tents
and
the
shacks
of
weed
and
tin
and
paper
.
«
Wisht
I
had
a
sack
a
Durham
,
"
he
said
.
«
I
ain
’
t
had
a
smoke
in
a
hell
of
a
time
.
Use
’
ta
get
tobacco
in
McAlester
.
Almost
wisht
I
was
back
.
»
He
tapped
his
teeth
again
and
suddenly
he
turned
on
the
preacher
.
«
Ever
been
in
a
jail
house
?
»
«
No
,
"
said
Casy
.
«
Never
been
.
»
«
Don
’
t
go
away
right
yet
,
"
said
Tom
.
«
Not
right
yet
.
»
