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- Джон Стейнбек
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Al
hurried
to
keep
in
back
of
the
last
car
.
«
These
here
is
our
own
people
,
all
of
’
em
,
"
Tom
said
.
«
I
don
’
like
this
.
»
Suddenly
the
leading
policemen
turned
off
the
road
into
a
wide
graveled
entrance
.
The
old
cars
whipped
after
them
.
The
motorcycles
roared
their
motors
.
Tom
saw
a
line
of
men
standing
in
the
ditch
beside
the
road
,
saw
their
mouths
open
as
though
they
were
yelling
,
saw
their
shaking
fists
and
their
furious
faces
.
A
stout
woman
ran
toward
the
cars
,
but
a
roaring
motorcycle
stood
in
her
way
.
A
high
wire
gate
swung
open
.
The
six
old
cars
moved
through
and
the
gate
closed
behind
them
.
The
four
motorcycles
turned
and
sped
back
in
the
direction
from
which
they
had
come
.
And
now
that
the
motors
were
gone
,
the
distant
yelling
of
the
men
in
the
ditch
could
be
heard
.
Two
men
stood
beside
the
graveled
road
.
Each
one
carried
a
shotgun
.
One
called
,
«
Go
on
,
go
on
.
What
the
hell
are
you
waiting
for
?
»
The
six
cars
moved
ahead
,
turned
a
bend
and
came
suddenly
on
the
peach
camp
.
There
were
fifty
little
square
,
flat
-
roofed
boxes
,
each
with
a
door
and
a
window
,
and
the
whole
group
in
a
square
.
A
water
tank
stood
high
on
one
edge
of
the
camp
.
And
a
little
grocery
store
stood
on
the
other
side
.
At
the
end
of
each
row
of
square
houses
stood
two
men
armed
with
shotguns
and
wearing
big
silver
stars
pinned
to
their
shirts
.
The
six
cars
stopped
.
Two
bookkeepers
moved
from
car
to
car
.
«
Want
to
work
?
»
Tom
answered
,
«
Sure
,
but
what
is
this
?
»
«
That
’
s
not
your
affair
.
Want
to
work
?
»
«
Sure
we
do
.
»
«
Name
?
»
«
Joad
.
»
