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           Thesweatbeadedonhisnoseandunderhiseyesandformedstreamsinthewrinklesofhisneck.Hestrolledtowardthetruck,lookingtruculentandstern.

           "Youfolksaimtobuyanything?Gasolineorstuff?"heasked.Alwasoutalready,unscrewingthesteamingradiatorcapwiththetipsofhisfingers,jerkinghishandawaytoescapethespurtwhenthecapshouldcomeloose."Needsomegas,mister."

           "Gotanymoney?"

           "Sure.Thinkwe’rebeggin’?"

           Thetruculenceleftthefatman’sface."Well,that’sallright,folks.He’pyourselftowater."Andhehastenedtoexplain."Roadisfullapeople,comein,usewater,dirtyupthetoilet,an’then,byGod,they’llstealstuffan’don’tbuynothin’.Gotnomoneytobuywith.Comebeggin’agallongastomoveon."

           Tomdroppedangrilytothegroundandmovedtowardthefatman."We’repayin’ourway,"hesaidfiercely."Yougotnocalltogiveusagoin’-over.Weain’taskedyoufornothin’."

           "Iain’t,"thefatmansaidquickly.Thesweatbegantosoakthroughhisshort-sleevedpoloshirt."Jus’he’pyourselftowater,andgousethetoiletifyouwant."

           Winfieldhadgotthehose.Hedrankfromtheendandthenturnedthestreamoverhisheadandfaceandemergeddripping."Itain’tcool,"hesaid.

           "Idon’tknowwhatthecountry’scomin’to,"thefatmancontinued.HiscomplainthadshiftednowandhewasnolongertalkingtoorabouttheJoads.