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- Джон Стейнбек
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«
If
you
don
’
know
,
you
got
no
right
to
hire
men
.
»
«
I
got
a
right
to
run
my
own
business
my
own
way
.
If
you
men
want
to
sit
here
on
your
ass
,
O
.
K
.
I
’
m
out
getting
men
for
Tulare
County
.
Going
to
need
a
lot
of
men
.
»
Floyd
turned
to
the
crowd
of
men
.
They
were
standing
up
now
,
looking
quietly
from
one
speaker
to
the
other
.
Floyd
said
,
«
Twicet
now
I
’
ve
fell
for
that
.
Maybe
he
needs
a
thousan
’
men
.
He
’
ll
get
five
thousan
’
there
,
an
’
he
’
ll
pay
fifteen
cents
an
hour
.
An
’
you
poor
bastards
’
ll
have
to
take
it
’
cause
you
’
ll
be
hungry
.
’
F
he
wants
to
hire
men
,
let
him
hire
’
em
an
’
write
out
an
’
say
what
he
’
s
gonna
pay
.
Ast
ta
see
his
license
.
He
ain
’
t
allowed
to
contract
men
without
a
license
.
»
The
contractor
turned
to
the
Chevrolet
and
called
,
«
Joe
!
»
His
companion
looked
out
and
then
swung
the
car
door
open
and
stepped
out
.
He
wore
riding
breeches
and
laced
boots
.
A
heavy
pistol
holster
hung
on
a
cartridge
belt
around
his
waist
.
On
his
brown
shirt
a
deputy
sheriff
’
s
star
was
pinned
.
He
walked
heavily
over
.
His
face
was
set
to
a
thin
smile
.
«
What
you
want
?
»
The
holster
slid
back
and
forth
on
his
hip
.
«
Ever
see
this
guy
before
,
Joe
?
»
The
deputy
asked
,
«
Which
one
?
»
«
This
fella
.
»
The
contractor
pointed
to
Floyd
.
«
What
’
d
he
do
?
»
The
deputy
smiled
at
Floyd
.
«
He
’
s
talkin
’
red
,
agitating
trouble
.
»
«
Hm
-
m
-
m
.
»
The
deputy
moved
slowly
around
to
see
Floyd
’
s
profile
,
and
the
color
slowly
flowed
up
Floyd
’
s
face
.
