О мышах и людях

           Whitclosedthemagazineimpressively.«Don’tyourememberBillTenner?Workedhereaboutthreemonthsago?»

           Slimthought...«Littleguy?»heasked.«Droveacultivator?»

           «That’shim,"Whitcried.«That’stheguy!»

           «Youthinkhe’stheguywrotethisletter?»

           «Iknowit.Billandmewasinhereoneday.Billhadoneofthembooksthatjustcome.Hewaslookin’initandhesays,‘Iwrotealetter.Wonderiftheyputitinthebook!’Butitwasn’tthere.Billsays,‘Maybethey’resavin’itforlater.’An’that’sjustwhattheydone.Thereitis.»

           «Guessyou’reright,"saidSlim.«Gotitrightinthebook.»

           Georgeheldouthishandforthemagazine.«Let’slookatit?»

           Whitfoundtheplaceagain,buthedidnotsurrenderhisholdonit.Hepointedouttheletterwithhisforefinger.Andthenhewenttohisboxshelfandlaidthemagazinecarefullyin.«IwonderifBillseenit,"hesaid.«Billandmeworkedinthatpatchoffieldpeas.Runcultivators,bothofus.Billwasahellofanicefella.»

           DuringtheconversationCarlsonhadrefusedtobedrawnin.Hecontinuedtolookdownattheolddog.Candywatchedhimuneasily.AtlastCarlsonsaid,«Ifyouwantmeto,I’llputtheolddeviloutofhismiseryrightnowandgetitoverwith.Ain’tnothingleftforhim.Can’teat,can’tsee,can’tevenwalkwithouthurtin’.»

           Candysaidhopefully,«Youain’tgotnogun.»

           «ThehellIain’t.GotaLuger.Itwon’thurthimnoneatall.»