Гроздья гнева
Chapter 20
Christ!What’mItalkin’about?»
«Idunno,"saidTom.«Soundskindanice.Whenyathinkyoucangettaworkan’quitthinkin’aspell?Wegottogetwork.Money’s’boutgone.PagivesfivedollarstogetapaintedpieceofboardstuckupoverGranma.Weain’tgotmuchlef’.»
Aleanbrownmongreldogcamesniffingaroundthesideofthetent.Hewasnervousandflexedtorun.Hesniffedclosebeforehewasawareofthetwomen,andthenlookinguphesawthem,leapedsideways,andfled,earsback,bonytailclampedprotectively.Casywatchedhimgo,dodgingaroundatenttogetoutofsight.Casysighed.«Iain’tdoin’nobodynogood,"hesaid.«Meornobodyelse.Iwasthinkin’I’dgooffalonebymyself.I’ma-eatin’yourfoodan’a-takin’uproom.An’Iain’tgiveyounothin’.MaybeIcouldgetasteadyjoban’maybepaybacksomeathestuffyou’vegiveme.»
Tomopenedhismouthandthrusthislowerjawforward,andhetappedhislowerteethwithadriedpieceofmustardstalk.Hiseyesstaredoverthecamp,overthegraytentsandtheshacksofweedandtinandpaper.«WishtIhadasackaDurham,"hesaid.«Iain’thadasmokeinahellofatime.Use’tagettobaccoinMcAlester.AlmostwishtIwasback.»Hetappedhisteethagainandsuddenlyheturnedonthepreacher.«Everbeeninajailhouse?»
«No,"saidCasy.«Neverbeen.»
«Don’tgoawayrightyet,"saidTom.«Notrightyet.»
«QuickerIgetlookin’forwork—quickerI’mgonnafindsome.»
