И проиграли бой

           Jim’sfacewentredandhisshouldersdropped."YoukeeptoyourGod-damnbook,"hesaid.

           "Toughguy,huh?"

           ThenJimcaughthimselfandgrinnedinembarrassment."I’mtired,"heapologized."It’sanewkindofworktome."

           Theblondcheckersmiled."Iknowhowitis,"hesaid."Yougetprettytouchywhenyou’retired.Whydon’tyougetupinatreeandhaveasmoke?"

           "IguessIwill."Jimwentbacktohistree.Hehookedhisbucketoveralimbandwenttopickingagain.Hesaidaloudtohimself."Evenme,likeamaddog.Can’tdothat.Myoldmandidthat."Hedidnotworkquickly,buthereducedhismovementstoamachine-likeperfection.Thesunwentlow,untilitleftthegroundentirelyandremainedonlyonthetopsofthetrees.Faraway,inthetown,awhistleblew.ButJimworkedsteadilyon.Itwasgrowingduskywhentherumbleinthepacking-housestoppedatlastandthecheckerscalledout,"Comeonin,youmen.It’stimetoquit."

           Jimclimbeddowntheladder,emptiedhisbucketandstackeditupwiththeothers.Thecheckermarkedinthebucketsandthentotaledthepicking.Themenstoodaboutforafewmoments,rollingcigarettes,talkingsoftlyintheevening.Theywalkedslowlyawaydownarow,towardthecountyroad,wheretheorchardbunkhouseswere.

           Jimsawtheoldmanaheadofhimandspeededuptocatchhim.Thethinlegsmovedwithjointedstiffness."It’syouagain,"hesaidasJimcaughtupwithhim.

           "ThoughtI’dwalkinwithyou."