he bunk1 house was a long, rectangular building. Inside, the walls were whitewashed2 and the floor unpainted. In three walls there were small, square windows, and in the fourth, a solid door with a wooden latch3. Against the walls were eight bunks4, five of them made up with blankets and the other three showing their burlap ticking. Over each bunk there was nailed an apple box with the opening forward so that it made two shelves for the personal belongings5 of the occupant of the bunk. And these shelves were loaded with little articles, soap and talcum powder, razors and those Western magazines ranch6 men love to read and scoff7 at and secretly believe. And there were medicines on the shelves, and little vials, combs; and from nails on the box sides, a few neckties. Near one wall there was a black cast-iron stove, its stovepipe going straight up through the ceiling. In the middle of the room stood a big square table littered with playing cards, and around it were grouped boxes for the players to sit on.
At about ten o’clock in the morning the sun threw a bright dust-laden bar through one of the side windows, and in and out of the beam flies shot like rushing stars.
The wooden latch raised. The door opened and a tall, stoop-shouldered old man came in. He was dressed in blue jeans and he carried a big push-broom in his left hand. Behind him came George, and behind George, Lennie.
“The boss was expectin’ you last night,” the old man said. “He was sore as hell when you wasn’t here to go out this morning.” He pointed8 with his right arm, and out of the sleeve came a round stick-like wrist, but no hand. “You can have them two beds there,” he said, indicating two bunks near the stove.
George stepped over and threw his blankets down on the burlap sack of straw that was a mattress9. He looked into his box shelf and then picked a small yellow can from it. “Say. What the hell’s this?”
“I don’t know,” said the old man.
“Says ‘positively kills lice, roaches and other scourges10.’ What the hell kind of bed you giving us, anyways. We don’t want no pants rabbits.”
The old swamper shifted his broom and held it between his elbow and his side while he held out his hand for the can. He studied the label carefully. “Tell you what—” he said finally, “last guy that had this bed was a blacksmith—hell of a nice fella and as clean a guy as you want to meet. Used to wash his hands even after he ate.”
“Then how come he got graybacks?” George was working up a slow anger. Lennie put his bindle on the neighboring bunk and sat down. He watched George with open mouth.
“Tell you what,” said the old swamper. “This here blacksmith—name of Whitey—was the kind of guy that would put that stuff around even if there wasn’t no bugs—just to make sure, see? Tell you what he used to do—At meals he’d peel his boil’ potatoes, an’ he’d take out ever’ little spot, no matter what kind, before he’d eat it. And if there was a red splotch on an egg, he’d scrape it off. Finally quit about the food. That’s the kinda guy he was—clean. Used ta dress up Sundays even when he wasn’t going no place, put on a necktie even, and then set in the bunk house.”
“I ain’t so sure,” said George skeptically. “What did you say he quit for?”
The old man put the yellow can in his pocket, and he rubbed his bristly white whiskers with his knuckles12. “Why . . . . he . . . . just quit, the way a guy will. Says it was the food. Just wanted to move. Didn’t give no other reason but the food. Just says ‘gimme my time’ one night, the way any guy would.”
George lifted his tick and looked underneath13 it. He leaned over and inspected the sacking closely. Immediately Lennie got up and did the same with his bed. Finally George seemed satisfied. He unrolled his bindle and put things on the shelf, his razor and bar of soap, his comb and bottle of pills, his liniment and leather wristband. Then he made his bed up neatly14 with blankets. The old man said, “I guess the boss’ll be out here in a minute. He was sure burned when you wasn’t here this morning. Come right in when we was eatin’ breakfast and says, ‘Where the hell’s them new men?’ An’ he give the stable buck15 hell, too.”
George patted a wrinkle out of his bed, and sat down. “Give the stable buck hell?” he asked.
“Sure. Ya see the stable buck’s a nigger.”
“Nigger, huh?”
“Yeah. Nice fella too. Got a crooked16 back where a horse kicked him. The boss gives him hell when he’s mad. But the stable buck don’t give a damn about that. He reads a lot. Got books in his room.”
“What kind of a guy is the boss?” George asked.
“Well, he’s a pretty nice fella. Gets pretty mad sometimes, but he’s pretty nice. Tell ya what—know what he done Christmas? Brang a gallon of whisky right in here and says, ‘Drink hearty17, boys. Christmas comes but once a year.’”
“The hell he did! Whole gallon?”
“Yes sir. Jesus, we had fun. They let the nigger come in that night. Little skinner name of Smitty took after the nigger. Done pretty good, too. The guys wouldn’t let him use his feet, so the nigger got him. If he coulda used his feet, Smitty says he woulda killed the nigger. The guys said on account of the nigger’s got a crooked back, Smitty can’t use his feet.” He paused in relish18 of the memory. “After that the guys went into Soledad and raised hell. I didn’t go in there. I ain’t got the poop no more.”
Lennie was just finishing making his bed. The wooden latch raised again and the door opened. A little stocky man stood in the open doorway19. He wore blue jean trousers, a flannel20 shirt, a black, unbuttoned vest and a black coat. His thumbs were stuck in his belt, on each side of a square steel buckle22. On his head was a soiled brown Stetson hat, and he wore high-heeled boots and spurs to prove he was not a laboring23 man.
The old swamper looked quickly at him, and then shuffled24 to the door rubbing his whiskers with his knuckles as he went. “Them guys just come,” he said, and shuffled past the boss and out the door.
The boss stepped into the room with the short, quick steps of a fat-legged man. “I wrote Murray and Ready I wanted two men this morning. You got your work slips?” George reached into his pocket and produced the slips and handed them to the boss. “It wasn’t Murray and Ready’s fault. Says right here on the slip that you was to be here for work this morning.”
George looked down at his feet. “Bus driver give us a bum25 steer,” he said. “We hadda walk ten miles. Says we was here when we wasn’t. We couldn’t get no rides in the morning.”
The boss squinted26 his eyes. “Well, I had to send out the grain teams short two buckers. Won’t do any good to go out now till after dinner.” He pulled his time book out of his pocket and opened it where a pencil was stuck between the leaves. George scowled27 meaningfully at Lennie, and Lennie nodded to show that he understood. The boss licked his pencil. “What’s your name?”
“George Milton.”
“And what’s yours?”
George said, “His name’s Lennie Small.”
The names were entered in the book. “Le’s see, this is the twentieth, noon the twentieth.” He closed the book. “Where you boys been working?”
“Up around Weed,” said George.
“You, too?” to Lennie.
“Yeah, him too,” said George.
The boss pointed a playful finger at Lennie. “He ain’t much of a talker, is he?”
“No, he ain’t, but he’s sure a hell of a good worker. Strong as a bull.”
Lennie smiled to himself. “Strong as a bull,” he repeated.
George scowled at him, and Lennie dropped his head in shame at having forgotten.
The boss said suddenly, “Listen, Small!” Lennie raised his head. “What can you do?”
In a panic, Lennie looked at George for help. “He can do anything you tell him,” said George. “He’s a good skinner. He can rassel grain bags, drive a cultivator. He can do anything. Just give him a try.”
The boss turned on George. “Then why don’t you let him answer? What you trying to put over?”
George broke in loudly, “Oh! I ain’t saying he’s bright. He ain’t. But I say he’s a God damn good worker. He can put up a four hundred pound bale.”
The boss deliberately28 put the little book in his pocket. He hooked his thumbs in his belt and squinted one eye nearly closed. “Say—what you sellin’?”
“Huh?”
“I said what stake you got in this guy? You takin’ his pay away from him?”
“No, ‘course I ain’t. Why ya think I’m sellin’ him out?”
“Well, I never seen one guy take so much trouble for another guy. I just like to know what your interest is.”
George said, “He’s my . . . . cousin. I told his old lady I’d take care of him. He got kicked in the head by a horse when he was a kid. He’s awright. Just ain’t bright. But he can do anything you tell him.”
The boss turned half away. “Well, God knows he don’t need any brains to buck barley29 bags. But don’t you try to put nothing over, Milton. I got my eye on you. Why’d you quit in Weed?”
“Job was done,” said George promptly30.
“What kinda job?”
“We . . . . we was diggin’ a cesspool.”
“All right. But don’t try to put nothing over, ‘cause you can’t get away with nothing. I seen wise guys before. Go on out with the grain teams after dinner. They’re pickin’ up barley at the threshing machine. Go out with Slim’s team.”
“Slim?”
“Yeah. Big tall skinner. You’ll see him at dinner.” He turned abruptly31 and went to the door, but before he went out he turned and looked for a long moment at the two men.
When the sound of his footsteps had died away, George turned on Lennie. “So you wasn’t gonna say a word. You was gonna leave your big flapper shut and leave me do the talkin’. Damn near lost us the job.”
Lennie stared hopelessly at his hands. “I forgot, George.”
“Yeah, you forgot. You always forget, an’ I got to talk you out of it.” He sat down heavily on the bunk. “Now he’s got his eye on us. Now we got to be careful and not make no slips. You keep your big flapper shut after this.” He fell morosely32 silent.
“George.”
“What you want now?”
“I wasn’t kicked in the head with no horse, was I, George?”
“Be a damn good thing if you was,” George said viciously. “Save ever’body a hell of a lot of trouble.”
“You said I was your cousin, George.”
“Well, that was a lie. An’ I’m damn glad it was. If I was a relative of yours I’d shoot myself.” He stopped suddenly, stepped to the open front door and peered out. “Say, what the hell you doin’ listenin’?”
The old man came slowly into the room. He had his broom in his hand. And at his heels there walked a dragfooted sheepdog, gray of muzzle33, and with pale, blind old eyes. The dog struggled lamely34 to the side of the room and lay down, grunting35 softly to himself and licking his grizzled, moth-eaten coat. The swamper watched him until he was settled. “I wasn’t listenin’. I was jus’ standin’ in the shade a minute scratchin’ my dog. I jus’ now finished swampin’ out the wash house.”
“You was pokin’ your big ears into our business,” George said. “I don’t like nobody to get nosey.”
The old man looked uneasily from George to Lennie, and then back. “I jus’ come there,” he said. “I didn’t hear nothing you guys was sayin’. I ain’t interested in nothing you was sayin’. A guy on a ranch don’t never listen nor he don’t ast no questions.”
“Damn right he don’t,” said George, slightly mollified, “not if he wants to stay workin’ long.” But he was reassured36 by the swamper’s defense37. “Come on in and set down a minute,” he said. “That’s a hell of an old dog.”
“Yeah. I had ‘im ever since he was a pup. God, he was a good sheepdog when he was younger.” He stood his broom against the wall and he rubbed his white bristled38 cheek with his knuckles. “How’d you like the boss?” he asked.
“Pretty good. Seemed awright.”
“He’s a nice fella,” the swamper agreed. “You got to take him right.”
At that moment a young man came into the bunk house; a thin young man with a brown face, with brown eyes and a head of tightly curled hair. He wore a work glove on his left hand, and, like the boss, he wore high-heeled boots. “Seen my old man?” he asked.
The swamper said, “He was here jus’ a minute ago, Curley. Went over to the cook house, I think.”
“I’ll try to catch him,” said Curley. His eyes passed over the new men and he stopped. He glanced coldly at George and then at Lennie. His arms gradually bent39 at the elbows and his hands closed into fists. He stiffened40 and went into a slight crouch41. His glance was at once calculating and pugnacious42. Lennie squirmed under the look and shifted his feet nervously43. Curley stepped gingerly close to him. “You the new guys the old man was waitin’ for?”
“We just come in,” said George.
“Let the big guy talk.”
Lennie twisted with embarrassment44.
George said, “S’pose he don’t want to talk?”
Curley lashed45 his body around. “By Christ, he’s gotta talk when he’s spoke46 to. What the hell are you gettin’ into it for?”
“We travel together,” said George coldly.
“Oh, so it’s that way.”
George was tense, and motionless. “Yeah, it’s that way.”
Lennie was looking helplessly to George for instruction.
“An’ you won’t let the big guy talk, is that it?”
“He can talk if he wants to tell you anything.” He nodded slightly to Lennie.
“We jus’ come in,” said Lennie softly.
Curley stared levelly at him. “Well, nex’ time you answer when you’re spoke to.” He turned toward the door and walked out, and his elbows were still bent out a little.
George watched him go, and then he turned back to the swamper. “Say, what the hell’s he got on his shoulder? Lennie didn’t do nothing to him.”
The old man looked cautiously at the door to make sure no one was listening. “That’s the boss’s son,” he said quietly. “Curley’s pretty handy. He done quite a bit in the ring. He’s a lightweight, and he’s handy.”
“Well, let him be handy,” said George. “He don’t have to take after Lennie. Lennie didn’t do nothing to him. What’s he got against Lennie?”
The swamper considered . . . . “Well . . . . tell you what. Curley’s like alot of little guys. He hates big guys. He’s alla time picking scraps48 with big guys. Kind of like he’s mad at ‘em because he ain’t a big guy. You seen little guys like that, ain’t you? Always scrappy?”
“Sure,” said George. “I seen plenty tough little guys. But this Curley better not make no mistakes about Lennie. Lennie ain’t handy, but this Curley punk is gonna get hurt if he messes around with Lennie.”
“Well, Curley’s pretty handy,” the swamper said skeptically. “Never did seem right to me. S’pose Curley jumps a big guy an’ licks him. Ever’body says what a game guy Curley is. And s’pose he does the same thing and gets licked. Then ever’body says the big guy oughtta pick somebody his own size, and maybe they gang up on the big guy. Never did seem right to me. Seems like Curley ain’t givin’ nobody a chance.”
George was watching the door. He said ominously49, “Well, he better watch out for Lennie. Lennie ain’t no fighter, but Lennie’s strong and quick and Lennie don’t know no rules.” He walked to the square table and sat down on one of the boxes. He gathered some of the cards together and shuffled them.
The old man sat down on another box. “Don’t tell Curley I said none of this. He’d slough50 me. He just don’t give a damn. Won’t ever get canned ‘cause his old man’s the boss.”
George cut the cards and began turning them over, looking at each one and throwing it down on a pile. He said, “This guy Curley sounds like a son-of-a-bitch to me. I don’t like mean little guys.”
“Seems to me like he’s worse lately,” said the swamper. “He got married a couple of weeks ago. Wife lives over in the boss’s house. Seems like Curley is cockier’n ever since he got married.”
George grunted51, “Maybe he’s showin’ off for his wife.”
The swamper warmed to his gossip. “You seen that glove on his left hand?”
“Yeah. I seen it.”
“Well, that glove’s fulla vaseline.”
“Vaseline? What the hell for?”
“Well, I tell ya what—Curley says he’s keepin’ that hand soft for his wife.”
George studied the cards absorbedly. “That’s a dirty thing to tell around,” he said.
The old man was reassured. He had drawn52 a derogatory statement from George. He felt safe now, and he spoke more confidently. “Wait’ll you see Curley’s wife.”
George cut the cards again and put out a solitaire lay, slowly and deliberately. “Purty?” he asked casually53.
“Yeah. Purty . . . . but—”
George studied his cards. “But what?”
“Well—she got the eye.”
“Yeah? Married two weeks and got the eye? Maybe that’s why Curley’s pants is full of ants.”
“I seen her give Slim the eye. Slim’s a jerkline skinner. Hell of a nice fella. Slim don’t need to wear no high-heeled boots on a grain team. I seen her give Slim the eye. Curley never seen it. An’ I seen her give Carlson the eye.”
George pretended a lack of interest. “Looks like we was gonna have fun.”
The swamper stood up from his box. “Know what I think?” George did not answer. “Well, I think Curley’s married . . . . a tart54.”
“He ain’t the first,” said George. “There’s plenty done that.”
The old man moved toward the door, and his ancient dog lifted his head and peered about, and then got painfully to his feet to follow. “I gotta be settin’ out the wash basins for the guys. The teams’ll be in before long. You guys gonna buck barley?”
“Yeah.”
“You won’t tell Curley nothing I said?”
“Hell no.”
“Well, you look her over, mister. You see if she ain’t a tart.” He stepped out the door into the brilliant sunshine.
George laid down his cards thoughtfully, turned his piles of three. He built four clubs on his ace11 pile. The sun square was on the floor now, and the flies whipped through it like sparks. A sound of jingling55 harness and the croak56 of heavy-laden axles sounded from outside. From the distance came a clear call. “Stable buck—ooh, sta-able buck!” And then, “Where the hell is that God damn nigger?”
George stared at his solitaire lay, and then he flounced the cards together and turned around to Lennie. Lennie was lying down on the bunk watching him.
“Look, Lennie! This here ain’t no setup. I’m scared. You gonna have trouble with that Curley guy. I seen that kind before. He was kinda feelin’ you out. He figures he’s got you scared and he’s gonna take a sock at you the first chance he gets.”
Lennie’s eyes were frightened. “I don’t want no trouble,” he said plaintively57. “Don’t let him sock me, George.”
George got up and went over to Lennie’s bunk and sat down on it. “I hate that kinda bastard58,” he said. “I seen plenty of ‘em. Like the old guy says, Curley don’t take no chances. He always wins.” He thought for a moment. “If he tangles59 with you, Lennie, we’re gonna get the can. Don’t make no mistake about that. He’s the boss’s son. Look, Lennie. You try to keep away from him, will you? Don’t never speak to him. If he comes in here you move clear to the other side of the room. Will you do that, Lennie?”
“I don’t want no trouble,” Lennie mourned. “I never done nothing to him.”
“Well, that won’t do you no good if Curley wants to plug himself up for a fighter. Just don’t have nothing to do with him. Will you remember?”
“Sure, George. I ain’t gonna say a word.”
The sound of the approaching grain teams was louder, thud of big hooves on hard ground, drag of brakes and the jingle61 of trace chains. Men were calling back and forth62 from the teams. George, sitting on the bunk beside Lennie, frowned as he thought. Lennie asked timidly, “You ain’t mad, George?”
“I ain’t mad at you. I’m mad at this here Curley bastard. I hoped we was gonna get a little stake together—maybe a hundred dollars.” His tone grew decisive. “You keep away from Curley, Lennie.”
“Sure I will, George. I won’t say a word.”
“Don’t let him pull you in—but—if the son-of-a-bitch socks you—let ‘im have it.”
“Let ‘im have what, George?”
“Never mind, never mind. I’ll tell you when. I hate that kind of a guy. Look, Lennie, if you get in any kind of trouble, you remember what I told you to do?”
Lennie raised up on his elbow. His face contorted with thought. Then his eyes moved sadly to George’s face. “If I get in any trouble, you ain’t gonna let me tend the rabbits.”
“That’s not what I meant. You remember where we slep’ last night? Down by the river?”
“Yeah. I remember. Oh, sure I remember! I go there an’ hide in the brush.”
“Hide till I come for you. Don’t let nobody see you. Hide in the brush by the river. Say that over.”
“Hide in the brush by the river, down in the brush by the river.”
“If you get in trouble.”
“If I get in trouble.”
A brake screeched63 outside. A call came, “Stable—buck. Oh! Sta-able buck.”
George said, “Say it over to yourself, Lennie, so you won’t forget it.”
Both men glanced up, for the rectangle of sunshine in the doorway was cut off. A girl was standing64 there looking in. She had full, rouged65 lips and wide-spaced eyes, heavily made up. Her fingernails were red. Her hair hung in little rolled clusters, like sausages. She wore a cotton house dress and red mules66, on the insteps of which were little bouquets68 of red ostrich69 feathers. “I’m lookin’ for Curley,” she said. Her voice had a nasal, brittle70 quality.
George looked away from her and then back. “He was in here a minute ago, but he went.”
“Oh!” She put her hands behind her back and leaned against the door frame so that her body was thrown forward. “You’re the new fellas that just come, ain’t ya?”
“Yeah.”
Lennie’s eyes moved down over her body, and though she did not seem to be looking at Lennie she bridled71 a little. She looked at her fingernails. “Sometimes Curley’s in here,” she explained.
George said brusquely. “Well he ain’t now.”
“If he ain’t, I guess I better look some place else,” she said playfully.
Lennie watched her, fascinated. George said, “If I see him, I’ll pass the word you was looking for him.”
She smiled archly and twitched72 her body. “Nobody can’t blame a person for lookin’,” she said. There were footsteps behind her, going by. She turned her head. “Hi, Slim,” she said.
Slim’s voice came through the door. “Hi, Good-lookin’.”
“I’m tryin’ to find Curley, Slim.”
“Well, you ain’t tryin’ very hard. I seen him goin’ in your house.”
She was suddenly apprehensive73. “’Bye, boys,” she called into the bunk house, and she hurried away.
George looked around at Lennie. “Jesus, what a tramp,” he said. “So that’s what Curley picks for a wife.”
“She’s purty,” said Lennie defensively.
“Yeah, and she’s sure hidin’ it. Curley got his work ahead of him. Bet she’d clear out for twenty bucks74.”
Lennie still stared at the doorway where she had been. “Gosh, she was purty.” He smiled admiringly. George looked quickly down at him and then he took him by an ear and shook him.
“Listen to me, you crazy bastard,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you even take a look at that bitch. I don’t care what she says and what she does. I seen ‘em poison before, but I never seen no piece of jail bait worse than her. You leave her be.”
Lennie tried to disengage his ear. “I never done nothing, George.”
“No, you never. But when she was standin’ in the doorway showin’ her legs, you wasn’t lookin’ the other way, neither.”
“I never meant no harm, George. Honest I never.”
“Well, you keep away from her, cause she’s a rattrap if I ever seen one. You let Curley take the rap. He let himself in for it. Glove fulla vaseline,” George said disgustedly. “An’ I bet he’s eatin’ raw eggs and writin’ to the patent medicine houses.”
Lennie cried out suddenly—“I don’t like this place, George. This ain’t no good place. I wanna get outa here.”
“We gotta keep it till we get a stake. We can’t help it, Lennie. We’ll get out jus’ as soon as we can. I don’t like it no better than you do.” He went back to the table and set out a new solitaire hand. “No, I don’t like it,” he said. “For two bits I’d shove out of here. If we can get jus’ a few dollars in the poke47 we’ll shove off and go up the American River and pan gold. We can make maybe a couple of dollars a day there, and we might hit a pocket.”
Lennie leaned eagerly toward him. “Le’s go, George. Le’s get outa here. It’s mean here.”
“We gotta stay,” George said shortly. “Shut up now. The guys’ll becomin’ in.”
From the washroom nearby came the sound of running water and rattling75 basins. George studied the cards. “Maybe we oughtta wash up,” he said. “But we ain’t done nothing to get dirty.”
A tall man stood in the doorway. He held a crushed Stetson hat under his arm while he combed his long, black, damp hair straight back. Like the others he wore blue jeans and a short denim76 jacket. When he had finished combing his hair he moved into the room, and he moved with a majesty77 achieved only by royalty78 and master craftsmen79. He was a jerkline skinner, the prince of the ranch, capable of driving ten, sixteen, even twenty mules with a single line to the leaders. He was capable of killing80 a fly on the wheeler’s butt21 with a bull whip without touching81 the mule67. There was a gravity in his manner and a quiet so profound that all talk stopped when he spoke. His authority was so great that his word was taken on any subject, be it politics or love. This was Slim, the jerkline skinner. His hatchet82 face was ageless. He might have been thirty-five or fifty. His ear heard more than was said to him, and his slow speech had overtones not of thought, but of understanding beyond thought. His hands, large and lean, were as delicate in their action as those of a temple dancer.
He smoothed out his crushed hat, creased83 it in the middle and put it on. He looked kindly84 at the two in the bunk house. “It’s brighter’n a bitch outside,” he said gently. “Can’t hardly see nothing in here. You the new guys?”
“Just come,” said George.
“Gonna buck barley?”
“That’s what the boss says.”
Slim sat down on a box across the table from George. He studied the solitaire hand that was upside down to him. “Hope you get on my team,” he said. His voice was very gentle. “I gotta pair of punks on my team that don’t know a barley bag from a blue ball. You guys ever bucked85 any barley?”
“Hell, yes,” said George. “I ain’t nothing to scream about, but that big bastard there can put up more grain alone than most pairs can.”
Lennie, who had been following the conversation back and forth with his eyes, smiled complacently86 at the compliment. Slim looked approvingly at George for having given the compliment. He leaned over the table and snapped the corner of a loose card. “You guys travel around together?” His tone was friendly. It invited confidence without demanding it.
“Sure,” said George. “We kinda look after each other.” He indicated Lennie with his thumb. “He ain’t bright. Hell of a good worker, though. Hell of a nice fella, but he ain’t bright. I’ve knew him for a long time.”
Slim looked through George and beyond him. “Ain’t many guys travel around together,” he mused87. “I don’t know why. Maybe ever’body in the whole damn world is scared of each other.”
“It’s a lot nicer to go around with a guy you know,” said George.
A powerful, big-stomached man came into the bunk house. His head still dripped water from the scrubbing and dousing88. “Hi, Slim,” he said, and then stopped and stared at George and Lennie.
“These guys jus’ come,” said Slim by way of introduction.
“Glad ta meet ya,” the big man said. “My name’s Carlson.”
“I’m George Milton. This here’s Lennie Small.”
“Glad ta meet ya,” Carlson said again. “He ain’t very small.” He chuckled89 softly at his joke. “Ain’t small at all,” he repeated. “Meant to ask you, Slim—how’s your bitch? I seen she wasn’t under your wagon90 this morning.”
“She slang her pups last night,” said Slim. “Nine of ‘em. I drowned four of ‘em right off. She couldn’t feed that many.”
“Got five left, huh?”
“Yeah, five. I kept the biggest.”
“What kinda dogs you think they’re gonna be?”
“I dunno,” said Slim. “Some kinda shepherds, I guess. That’s the most kind I seen around here when she was in heat.”
Carlson went on, “Got five pups, huh. Gonna keep all of ‘em?”
“I dunno. Have to keep ‘em a while so they can drink Lulu’s milk.”
Carlson said thoughtfully, “Well, looka here, Slim. I been thinkin’. That dog of Candy’s is so God damn old he can’t hardly walk. Stinks91 like hell, too. Ever’ time he comes into the bunk house I can smell him for two, three days. Why’n’t you get Candy to shoot his old dog and give him one of the pups to raise up? I can smell that dog a mile away. Got no teeth, damn near blind, can’t eat. Candy feeds him milk. He can’t chew nothing else.”
George had been staring intently at Slim. Suddenly a triangle began to ring outside, slowly at first, and then faster and faster until the beat of it disappeared into one ringing sound. It stopped as suddenly as it had started.
“There she goes,” said Carlson.
Outside, there was a burst of voices as a group of men went by.
Slim stood up slowly and with dignity. “You guys better come on while they’s still something to eat. Won’t be nothing left in a couple of minutes.”
Carlson stepped back to let Slim precede him, and then the two of them went out the door.
Lennie was watching George excitedly. George rumpled92 his cards into a messy pile. “Yeah!” George said, “I heard him, Lennie. I’ll ask him.”
“A brown and white one,” Lennie cried excitedly.
“Come on. Le’s get dinner. I don’t know whether he got a brown and white one.”
Lennie didn’t move from his bunk. “You ask him right away, George, so he won’t kill no more of ‘em.”
“Sure. Come on now, get up on your feet.”
Lennie rolled off his bunk and stood up, and the two of them started for the door. Just as they reached it, Curley bounced in.
“You seen a girl around here?” he demanded angrily.
George said coldly. “’Bout half an hour ago maybe.”
“Well what the hell was she doin’?”
George stood still, watching the angry little man. He said insultingly, “She said—she was lookin’ for you.”
Curley seemed really to see George for the first time. His eyes flashed over George, took in his height, measured his reach, looked at his trim middle. “Well, which way’d she go?” he demanded at last.
“I dunno,” said George. “I didn’ watch her go.”
Curley scowled at him, and turning, hurried out the door.
George said, “Ya know, Lennie, I’m scared I’m gonna tangle60 with that bastard myself. I hate his guts93. Jesus Christ! Come on. They won’t be a damn thing left to eat.”
They went out the door. The sunshine lay in a thin line under the window. From a distance there could be heard a rattle94 of dishes.
After a moment the ancient dog walked lamely in through the open door. He gazed about with mild, half-blind eyes. He sniffed95, and then lay down and put his head between his paws. Curley popped into the doorway again and stood looking into the room. The dog raised his head, but when Curley jerked out, the grizzled head sank to the floor again.
第 二 章
工人宿舍是一间矩形的、长长的屋子。里边，地板没有上油漆。墙壁是刷白了的。三面墙上都开有一个方形的小窗户，第四面有一道结实的上面有木闩的门。八个铺位靠墙摆着，五个是铺上了毛毡的，剩下的三个看去只是麦杆裹上麻布的垫子。每个铺位上头的壁上都钉牢一只苹果箱，箱子开口的那一面向外并做成两格，让睡这个铺位的人放置他的私人物品。这些格子里经常摆满了洗衣枧、剃刀、滑石粉之类的零星物件，还有那些农场庄稼人爱读的、私心信仰并能从中得到乐趣的西部杂志。格子里还塞满了各种各样的小药水瓶，药，梳子；几条领带被挂在苹果箱侧的铁钉上。靠近一扇墙旁，有一座烟囱直从天花板上穿过的生铁火炉。一张大方桌在屋子正中摆着，桌面上是一堆乱七八糟的扑克牌，桌子四周有用苹果箱叠成的专供玩牌的人们坐的凳子。
大概早上十点钟的时候，透过一扇窗，太阳投进一道充满了尘埃的光柱来，一队队象流星般的苍蝇在这光柱中穿进来，又穿出去。
木门闩给拉开了。门呀的一声打开，走进来一个高个子、肩膊斜倾的老头。他穿一身蓝斜纹布衣服，一个很大的抹地拖把在他的左手的手中拿着。跟在他后面进来的是佐治，佐治后面是李奈。
“昨天夜里经理在等着他们哩，”老头说。“他可真不乐呢，你们没有来，今早上不了工。”他伸出右臂指着那两个靠近火炉的铺位说，“这两个铺你们可以睡。”这时，他的袖口掀了起来，在右臂下露出一截木头般的手腕，却没有手。
佐治走了过去，把他的包捆抛在那床枯麦杆褥垫上面。他朝上头的箱格子看了看，从里面捡出一个黄色小罐来。“哦，瞧，这是个什么东西？”
老头说：“我不知道。”
“这上面写着：‘特效灭虱药，蟑螂及一切疥虫，无不嗅之立毙。’你分给我们什么样的鸟床位？嘿！这些裤裆里头的兔子我们用不着。”
老打杂工把拖把紧紧地夹在了右边有腋窝下，这才腾出了左手去拿那小罐子。他细心地端详了那上面的仿单。“告诉你吧，”终于他开口了，“最后一个从这个铺位离开的是个铁工———一个真好的角儿，挺爱干净。你若见到他包管你会喜欢他。那怕是吃过东西他也总要洗手的。”
“那么这发瘟药他要来干吗的？”佐治有点冒火了，问。李奈的包捆被他搁到相邻的铺位上，他坐了下来，张开口，在守候着佐治。
“告诉你这是怎么回事吧，”老打杂工说。“这个铁工———名叫威泰———是一种这样的角色，那怕半只臭虫也没有，他也会把药粉撒得到处都是———那是为了保险，明白吗？告诉你他是怎么个脾性吧……每餐坐上桌子，总要把热呼呼的山芋去了皮，剥得光净，要是有一个小斑点给他找了出来，不管什么样的，非撷了去是不吃的；有点在鸡蛋上，也必定要抹了去。终归还是为了伙食跑掉了。他是这么一种角儿———干净。到礼拜天，就算是哪儿也不去，也把自己打扮起来，连领带也扎得好好的，蹲在寝室里头。”
“我不大相信，”佐治表示怀疑说。“你说他是为了什么缘故跑掉的呀？”
黄药罐被老头塞进了衣袋里，然后他将用指节骨他的粗硬的白胡须捋了捋。“呃……他……跑掉，总得跑掉的，那不过象每个角儿一样。说是为了伙食。总之要走就是了。别的理由不去讲，总是讲伙食。在一个夜里说了句，‘把工钱算给我吧’，每个角儿都是这么着的。”
佐治把他床上的褥套揭起，看那下面。他弯下腰来，仔细地检查了一遍褥套。李奈突地站起来，学着佐治的样，将他自己的铺也查看了一遍。终于，看来佐治是放心了。他将他的包捆打开，把东西放到箱格里去，梳子呀，枧呀，剃刀呀，还有各种药丸的瓶子，皮护腕，治风湿用的擦剂。没一阵子工夫，他把毯子铺了上去，把他的床铺搞得很舒齐。那老头说：“我猜不出一分钟经理就要来了。他可真急得发火，你们今早还没到。我们吃着早饭他冲了进来，说：‘那两个新来的人在什么地方？’那喂马的黑鬼还给他臭骂了一顿呢。”
佐治将他床上的一条皱纹拨平，坐了下去。“喂马的黑鬼给臭骂一顿？”他问。
“那还用说。这马房长工是个黑人，你知道。”
“呃，黑人？”
“是的。人可是个很好的人。被马踢过，成了个驼子。一发火经理总拿他出气。骂的可粗鲁哩。但马房长工从来都不吱声。他看很多书。有许多的书呢他房里。”
“经理这人是怎么样的？”佐治问。
“哦，他人蛮好。有时蛮爱气得发疯似的，但人蛮好。告诉你吧———圣诞节那天他怎样做的你知道吗？带了一加仑威士忌到这儿来，说道，‘开怀地喝吧！小子们，圣诞节一年只逢得着一次啊。’”
“可他妈的真行。有一加仑吗？”
“有的，先生。主啊，我们可真乐。这一晚，他们让那黑鬼到这宿舍里来。名字叫斯米特的小去皮工跟黑鬼斗拳。打得蛮好的。大家不许斯米特用脚，这样黑鬼才打赢他。斯米特说要是许可用脚，他准能把黑鬼打死。众人说斯米特不能用脚，看黑鬼是个驼子。”他停了下来，整个人沉浸在对往事的回忆之中。“大伙儿玩完这个后，便上梭利戴德去，在那儿耍了个痛快。我没和大伙一块去。这一套我玩不来了。”
这时李奈才把他的床铺好。木门闩又被拉了起来，门给打开了。门口站着一个身材矮小，长得却很胖的人。他穿的是法兰尼绒的衬衣，蓝斜纹衣袄，一件黑色的、钮扣没有扣起来的背心，还有一件黑外套。他的两只拇指插入皮带的方形铜扣的两旁。头上戴着一顶满是灰尘的褐色斯脱逊帽，脚穿高跟皮鞋，外加踢马刺，可见他不是个做工的人。
老打杂工倏地瞥了他一眼，就瑟缩地退到门口，边走边用手指节骨将他的胡须捋着。“他们两个才刚到哩，”说着，他从经理身边闪过，走出了门。
经理踱进屋来，那是个胖子，迈着急促的短步。“我写信给莫莱吕岱公司说今天早晨我要两个人。上工卡你们有吗？”佐治把手伸到衣袋里，把那两张上工证掏了出来交给经理。“这不是莫莱吕岱公司的错。限你们今天一早到工卡片上写明了的。”
佐治垂下眼睛来瞧着自己的脚。“可是司机跟我们捣蛋，”他说。“我们走了足有十哩的路。他说是到了，谁知道不是那么回事。今天早上我们又搭不到车。”
经理眯了一下眼睛，说：“好吧，我派你们到缺两个肩工的割麦队里去就是。吃过中饭再说，现在不忙着去。”他将工时簿从口袋里掏出来，照着由插在里头的那枝铅笔隔成的裂缝把工时簿打开。佐治故意对李奈皱了皱眉头，李奈点点头，表示他知道。经理舐了舐铅笔。“你叫什么名字？”
“佐治?米尔东。”
“你呢？”
“他叫李奈?史莫尔。”佐治说。
他们的名字被记在了本子上。“我们得讲好，今天是二十号，二十号中午。”他合起笔记本。“你们两个以前在什么地方干过活？”
“韦地一带都干过”，佐治说。
对李奈。“你也是吗？”
佐治说：“是，他也是。”
经理很俏皮地指着李奈。“他不太会说话是吧？”
“是的，不太会，不过他可真他妈的是不呱呱叫的雇工。跟公牛一样结实。”
李奈自个儿笑了起来。“跟公牛一样结实，”他重复了一句。
佐治瞅了他一眼，李奈，很难为情地把头垂了下去，他竟忘了呀。
突然经理说道：“喂，李奈！”李奈把头抬起来。“你能干些什么？”
李奈慌张了起来，呆看着佐治求救。“他都干得了，无论你叫他干什么。”佐治说。“他是个很好的马车工。他会开垦土机，能背麦袋。只要你让他去干。什么都能干。”
经理把脸转过来向着佐治。“那为什么你不让他自己来回答？你想搞什么鬼把戏？”
佐治大声嚷了起来。“啊！我没说他是个精佻的人。他不是。我只说他是个呱呱叫的雇工。四百磅的大包他都扛得起来。”
经理把笔记本从容地放进口袋里。两只拇指扣在皮带上，一只眼睛眯得快要合起来了。“喂，你在卖些什么？”
“呃？”
“我说，从这个人身上你揩到些什么油水？他的工钱是给你拿去的吧？”
“不。当然我不会那样。你怎么会这样想，我是出卖他？”
“唔，一个人肯替别人担这么多的麻烦我从来都没见过。我想知道究竟你得到了些什么样的好处。”
佐治说：“他是我的……表弟。我答应过他母亲说我会看顾他。他孩童时脑袋被马踢过一脚。他人好，只是不精佻。但不管你叫他干什么，他都能。”
经理将身子扭转过去想走了。“好吧，反正背麦袋用不着他什么脑子的。可是米尔东，你别想捣蛋。我会盯牢你的。你们是因为什么缘故从韦地离开的？”
“包的工做完了，”不假思索，佐治随口回答说。
“什么工你们包的？”
“我们……呃，我们给人家挖一个粪坑。”
“唔，好。可是你别想捣蛋，你总不能两手空空的走掉的。再怎么聪明的角儿，我也见过。吃过中饭跟刈麦队一起出去吧。他们正忙着要给打麦机送麦捆呢。你们跟施琳那一班出去。”
“施琳？”
“是。一个大个子马车工。你会见到他的，吃中饭时。”经理猝然转身走向门口，但到得门边又转回来，在他们两个身上盯了半天。
等经理的脚步声消失后，佐治转过脸来对李奈说：“你应该一句话也不说。该把你那块厚嘴唇闭上，让我跟他谈。妈的我们的活差点儿就干不成了。”
李奈不知所措地盯着自己的双手。“我忘了，佐治。”
“是啊，你忘了。你总是忘了的，我非得在你耳朵旁边一天到晚喃着不行。”佐治大光其身地坐到自己的床铺上。
“现在我们给他盯牢啦。从现在，此刻起，我们必须处处留神，不给他找出什么岔子来。以后你可得把你那块厚嘴唇闭起来了。”他浸入了一种深沉的缄默之中。
“佐治。”
“你又在叫什么？”
“我的脑袋没给马踢过一脚，不是吗，佐治？”
“要是真有那就好了，”佐治狠心地说。“可以省掉许多该死的麻烦。”
“你说我是你的表弟哩，佐治。”
“呔，那是一个谎。这是一个谎我他妈的高兴。我早一颗子弹把自己打死了，我要是你的亲戚。”突然他停下来，走到门口，探头往外面张望了一下。“喂，他妈的，你在偷听些什么？”
老头子慢步走进房子。他手上拿着拖帚。一匹拖曳着脚步的守羊狗跟在他后面走了进来。灰白色的口鼻，一双黯淡而瞎掉了的眼睛。这条狗吃力地一步一蹩地走到房间边上，躺了下来，汪汪地对自己叫了两声，就伸出舌头舔舐它那花白的、长了虱子的毛皮。老打杂工望着他的狗，直到这狗安顿了下来，才说，“我没有偷听。我只是在门外边站了一会儿工夫，给我的狗搔虱子。我刚把洗衣间打扫完呢。”
“你竖着你那大块耳朵听我们的买卖，”佐治说。“我顶不高兴有人多管闲事。”
老头子很紧张不安地瞧了瞧李奈和佐治，退下去了。“我只是来这里罢了，”他说。“你们两个的话我没有偷听。你们谈什么都和我不相干。一个在农场干活的角儿，永远不要偷听别人的话。也不要问长问短的跟别人唠叨。”
“他要是想活儿干得长久，就该不，”佐治的怒气略为平复了一点。老打杂工的辩解也使他放下了心。“进来坐一会儿吧，”他说。“这真是条够老了的狗。”
“是呀。它还是条小狗的时候，我就养着它了。它是一匹很好的守羊狗呢，在它还不怎么老的时候。”他把拖帚傍在墙边放着，用指节骨摸了摸长满了硬髭的灰白色的腮颊。“你看经理可好吗？”
“挺好的。看来准不坏。”
“你看对了，”打杂工赞同地说。“他是个极好的脚色呢。”
就在这个时候，一个青年人走进宿舍来了；一个长得单薄的青年人，一头紧贴之至的鬈发，茶褐色脸孔，茶褐色的眼睛。他左手上带着一只劳动手套，和经理一样脚上穿着高跟鞋子。“看见我老人家吗？”他问。
老打杂工说：“刚才他还在这儿呢，顾利。到厨房去了吧我想。”
“我去找找看，”顾利说。他一眼瞥见新来的人，于是便站定了不走。他冷冷地瞧了瞧佐治，又瞧了瞧李奈。他两肘向外斜弯，双手紧紧握拳，样子开始变得冷酷，简直像是有点弓起身子要向人扑过来似的。他的眼光登时变成蓄谋挑衅的了。李奈给他盯得忐忑不安起来，两只脚不知所措地抽调着。佐治小心翼翼地走到他面前。他说，“你们就是我老人家一直在等着的新来的人？”
“我们才刚刚到哩，”佐治说。
“让这个大个子说。”
李奈为难得都别扭了起来。
佐治说：“他可能不太想讲话吧？”
猛地顾利将身子耸了一下。“主啊，别人跟他讲话，他总得讲。你他妈的干吗多管闲事？”
“我们是一起来的，”佐治冷冷地说。
“哦，原来这样。”
佐治脸色绷紧了，毫不为之动容。“嗯，就这样。”
李奈无可奈何地瞧着佐治，等他吩咐。
“你不能让这个大个子说话，是不？”
“他如果有话要对你说，自然他就会说的。”他轻轻地对李奈点了点头。
“我们才刚刚到哩，”李奈柔声说。
顾利平视着他。“唔，下次有人跟你讲话，你可得回答。”他转过身，朝门口走了过去，出去了，两肘仍带点弯曲。
看得他去远，佐治将脸转过来对老打杂工说：“喂，他撞的什么鬼，耍的什么威风？李奈又没犯着他什么。”
老头子走到门口仔细地看了看，见没人在偷听，这才不动声色地说，“他是经理的儿子，人蛮精灵的。就是在拳击场上，也能来得两下子呢。他是轻量级，可灵巧呢。”
“唔，让他灵巧去好了，”佐治说。“他犯不着来找上李奈。李奈又没犯着他什么。干吗他要跟李奈作对？”
沉思了一会儿后，老打杂工说：“是———告诉你吧。顾利跟许多生得矮小脚色一样，他恨大个子，没有什么时候不跟大个子闹别扭的。因为自己不是大个子，所以一见到他们他就生气。这种矮小脚色你见过吧，常常寻事闹的有没有？”
“嗯，”佐治说。十分霸道的矮小的脚色我也见过一些。可是最好这个顾利不要跟李奈找麻烦。李奈是不精灵，可要是跟他闹翻了脸，顾利这段朽木头准会吃痛的。”
“唔，顾利是蛮灵巧的，”对佐治的话打杂工有所怀疑，说“我总觉得不公平。顾利要是和一个大个子打架打赢了，人们都说顾利是个多厉害的拳师。可顾利要是输了呢，人们都说大个子应该找个头和他一样的人交手，甚至人们会聚在一起，把大个子狠揍一顿。我总觉得不公平。顾利看来总不给什么机会给别人似的。”
佐治戒备地望着门口。他预示恶兆地说：“唔，最好他不来惹李奈。李奈不是什么拳师，但他手快，有力，而且什么拳击规则李奈是不懂的。”他走到方桌旁边，在一个苹果箱上坐下，把一把扑克牌抓过来叠齐，把牌洗了一过。
老头在另一只苹果箱上坐下。“我讲这些话可别跟顾利说。他会把我揍死的。揍死了我他也不会放在心上，只会把这当个鸟毛。人们不会把他撵走，因为他父亲是经理呀。”
佐治倒了倒牌，便一张一张地将它们翻了过来，每张端详上一会儿，然后把它们丢开去，积成了一堆。他说：“依我看顾利这家伙讲起话来，声音简直象个母狼儿子发出来的。下流的矮小家伙我可不喜欢。”
“依我看来，他这些日子来才变得更坏了，”老打杂工说。“两个星期前他才结的婚。老婆就住在经理的房子里。结婚之后，似乎顾利比他过去一向来更加横霸了。”
佐治粗声说：“也许是想夸耀夸耀自己，给老婆瞧吧。”
打杂工越说越起劲了。“他左手上戴的手套你看见了吗？”
“唔，我看见了。”
“涂满了凡士林那只手套里头。”
“凡士林？涂那个干什么？”
“哈，告诉你吧，顾利说他必须把他的手润着，好让它光滑些，给老婆玩哪。”
佐治正在出神地察看着纸牌。“嗬，这话真是讲出来也嫌脏呢。”他说。
老头放心了，佐治已经有一句坏话给他引出来了。现在他感到安全了，就越发放胆地讲起来。“等着吧，顾利老婆你们总要见到的。”
佐治将牌再次倒了倒，从容地慢慢地翻出一手明牌来。“漂亮吗？”他不注意地问道。
“嗯。漂亮……不过……”
佐治看着牌。“不过什么？”
“呃———她吊膀子。”
“是吗？结婚才两个礼拜就吊膀子？顾利的裤裆里头大概会满是蚂蚁了。”
“我看见他跟施琳吊膀子。施琳是去皮工的头手。是个死鬼好人。穿高跟鞋的施琳不让他们上打麦队去。顾利没看见。我看见她吊施琳的膀子。我还看见她跟贾尔纯吊膀子呢。”
“瞧吧，我们会有热闹看的。佐治装作不感兴趣似的说。”
老打杂工从他的座位上站起。“你说我是怎么想的？”佐治没出声。“唔，我想顾利娶的是个……烂货。”
“他不是第一个，”佐治说。“许多人都干过这种事呢。”
老头将脚步移向门口，他那老得稀奇的狗，将头抬起来，朝四周望了望，于是艰难地拉动四条脚，跟在他后面。“收割队就快要回来了。我要给那些人预备洗脸盆去了。你们两个是背麦袋的？”
“是。”
“我的话你不会告诉顾利吧？”
“当然不。”
“哼，你打量打量她吧，先生。你瞧她是个烂货不是。”他踱出房门，走到炫目的阳光里去。
佐治沉思似地将手中的牌放下，分作三堆。他将四张黑葵花找出来立在第一堆上。现在，日影照到了地板上，苍蝇从日影中穿过，象火花一般飞舞着。外面响起重载的车轴发出的噶咯噶咯的响声，马匹车免具的丁当声。一句很清楚的呼唤从远处传来：“马房长工———哟，马———房———长———工———哟！”接着是：“他妈的，那发瘟黑鬼去哪儿？”
佐治望着他那摆了出来的“苏里泰”，接着，他收拢纸牌，将它叠好，转过脸来瞧着李奈。李奈躺在床铺上，正在守候着他。
“瞧吧，李奈！这儿又会站在稳脚跟了。我实在是怕。迟早你会跟顾利那家伙闹出事来的。这种人我以前也见过。他不把你看在眼里。他估量着你是怕他的，一有机会，他就会揍你一顿。”
李奈给吓得两只眼睛怔住了。“我不想闹事，”他凄声说，“佐治，别让他揍我。”
佐治站起身来，走到李奈的铺位前，坐了下去。“我恨这种家伙，”他说，“我见得多了这些杂种。顾利是不讲什么时机的，那老头说得对。他每打必赢。”想了一下后，他说。“要是他跟你纠缠起来，李奈，我们就准会给开除出去。他是经理的儿子。可不能在这上头出岔子。记住，李奈。你要避开他，明白吗？千万别和他说话。他要是到这里来，你就干脆走到房子的另一边去。这么做你记得吗，李奈？”
“我不要闹事，”李奈凄凉得几乎要哭出来说。“我一辈子也不惹他。”
“呃，你一定会遭殃的，假使顾利要显摆拳师的威风。只有千万别惹他。你记住了吗？”
“一定，佐治。我一句话也不说。”
收割队渐来渐近，他们发出来的声音也越发地响亮了，机动车的制动声，大块马蹄敲在硬地上的得得声，还有车免链的丁当声。来回的呼喊声不住地从人群中发出来。佐治坐在床上，皱起眉头靠在李奈身边想心事。李奈畏缩地问道：“佐治，你不是在生气吧？”
“我不是生你的气，我生顾利这个狗杂种的气。我想我们总会聚起一小注钱来———也许是一百元。”他的语气越发果决了。“你避开顾利，李奈。”
“我一定那样，佐治。我一句话不说。”
“别让他缠上你———呃，可是———这狗杂种要是揍你———让他去好了。”
“让他去什么，佐治？”
“不打紧，不打紧的。我到时会告诉你。我恨这种家伙。喂，李奈，要是无论你闹了什么事，我叫你怎么做你记得吗？”
李奈用肘将身子支起来。他想得脸孔也歪向一边去了。接着，他惨淡的目光移到了佐治的脸上。“要是我闹了什么事，你就不给兔子给我管。”
“我讲的不是这个。昨天夜里我们睡在什么地方你记得吗？沿着哪条河？”
“唔，我记得。哦，当然我记得啦！我回到那里去，在丛树林里躲起来。”
“别让人家看见。一直躲到我来找你。躲在河边的丛树林里。再说一遍。”
“躲到河边的丛树林里面，走到河边的丛树林。”
“要是你闹出什么事来。”
“要是我闹出什么事来。”
外面，一架机动车停了下来。一个声音传来：“马房—长工———啊，马———房———长工。”
佐治说：“你再自己把它念一遍吧，李奈，这样一来你就不会忘掉了。”
两个人都将眼睛抬起来瞧，因为门口那长方形的太阳光柱被遮断了。一个女人正站在那儿往里面瞧着。她有着一双彼此距离很宽的眼睛，丰满的抹了胭脂的口唇，妆化得很浓打扮得很妖艳。她的指甲染成红色，头发被分成许多旋卷的小簇垂下来，象一束束香肠似的。她穿着棉布便装，红拖鞋，鞋面上缀着好些鸵鸟毛编成的小花球。“我找顾利，”她说。她的声音音质很脆，带点鼻音。
佐治一瞥见她就将视线移开去，然后才又瞧了瞧她。“一分钟前他是在这里的，现在他出去了。”
“哦！”她将双手扳到背后，斜倚在门框上，这样一来，她的身体就靠前了。“你们就是那两个新来的人，是不是？”
“是的。”
李奈从上往下地瞧着她。她虽不象是在瞧李奈，却将头昂起一点儿来。她瞧着自己的指甲。“顾利常常来这里。”她解释说。
“嗯，不过现在他不在。”佐治随口说。“他既然不在，我想我还是到别的地方去找找看吧。”她嘻皮笑脸地说。
李奈瞧着她，魂都给迷住了。佐治说：“我要是看见他，我就告诉他一声，说是你在找他好了。”
她妖冶地笑了起来，一面抽搐着身体。“别人找人谁也不能怪的，”她说。一阵脚步声在她后头扬起，并且越响越近。她回过头去。“啊，施琳。”她说。
从门口透进来施琳的声音。“嗨，打扮得真漂亮。”
“我想找顾利呢，施琳。”
“嗯，你用不着这样费劲。我看见他走进你的屋子里去啦。”
突然她狼狈起来。“再见，小
收听单词发音 |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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scoff
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| n.嘲笑，笑柄，愚弄；v.嘲笑，嘲弄，愚弄，狼吞虎咽 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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mattress
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| n.床垫，床褥 | |
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scourges
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| 带来灾难的人或东西，祸害( scourge的名词复数 )； 鞭子 | |
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ace
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| n.A牌；发球得分；佼佼者；adj.杰出的 | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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crooked
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| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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laboring
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| n.劳动，操劳v.努力争取(for)( labor的现在分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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24
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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bum
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| n.臀部；流浪汉，乞丐；vt.乞求，乞讨 | |
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26
squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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barley
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| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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morosely
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| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
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muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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grunting
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| 咕哝的，呼噜的 | |
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reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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bristled
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| adj. 直立的，多刺毛的 动词bristle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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42
pugnacious
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| adj.好斗的 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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44
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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45
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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46
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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47
poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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48
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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49
ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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50
slough
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| v.蜕皮，脱落，抛弃 | |
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51
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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52
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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53
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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54
tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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55
jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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56
croak
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| vi.嘎嘎叫，发牢骚 | |
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57
plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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58
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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tangles
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| （使）缠结， （使）乱作一团( tangle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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61
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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screeched
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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64
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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65
rouged
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| 胭脂，口红( rouge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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68
bouquets
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| n.花束( bouquet的名词复数 )；（酒的）芳香 | |
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69
ostrich
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| n.鸵鸟 | |
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70
brittle
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| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
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71
bridled
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| 给…套龙头( bridle的过去式和过去分词 )； 控制； 昂首表示轻蔑（或怨忿等）； 动怒，生气 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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74
bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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75
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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76
denim
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| n.斜纹棉布；斜纹棉布裤，牛仔裤 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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craftsmen
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| n. 技工 | |
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80
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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81
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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82
hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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83
creased
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的过去式和过去分词 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹； 皱皱巴巴 | |
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84
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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85
bucked
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| adj.快v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的过去式和过去分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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dousing
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| v.浇水在…上( douse的现在分词 )；熄灯[火] | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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stinks
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| v.散发出恶臭( stink的第三人称单数 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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