they was a circus or a baseball game . . . . we would of went to her . . . . jus' said `ta hell with work,' an' went to her. Never ast nobody's say so. An' they'd of been a pig and chickens . . . . an' in the winter . . . . the little fat stove . . . . an' the rain comin' . . . . an' us jus' settin' there." His eyes blinded with tears and he turned and went weakly out of the barn, and he rubbed his bristly whiskers with his wrist stump.
Outside the noise of the game stopped. There was a rise of voices in question, a drum of running feet and the men burst into the barn. Slim and Carlson and young Whit and Curley, and Crooks keeping back out of attention range. Candy came after them, and last of all came George. George had put on his blue denim coat and buttoned it, and his black hat was pulled down low over his eyes.
The men raced around the last stall. Their eyes found Curley's wife in the gloom, they stopped and stood still and looked.
Then Slim went quietly over to her, and he felt her wrist. One lean finger touched her cheek, and then his hand went under her slightly twisted neck and his fingers explored her neck. When he stood up the men crowded near and the spell was broken.
Curley came suddenly to life. "I know who done it," he cried.
"That big son-of-a-bitch done it. I know he done it. Why-ever'body else was out there playin' horseshoes." He worked himself into a fury. "I'm gonna get him. I'm going for my shotgun. I'll kill the big son-of-a-bitch myself. I'll shoot 'im in the guts. Come on, you guys." He ran furiously out of the barn. Carlson said, "I'll get my Luger," and he ran out too.
Slim turned quietly to George. "I guess Lennie done it, all right,"
he said. "Her neck's bust. Lennie coulda did that."
George didn't answer, but he nodded slowly. His hat was so far down on his forehead that his eyes were covered.
Slim went on, "Maybe like that time in Weed you was tellin'
about."
Again George nodded.
Slim sighed. "Well, I guess we got to get him. Where you think he might of went?"
It seemed to take George some time to free his words. "He-would of went south," he said. "We come from north so he would of went south."
"I guess we gotta get 'im," Slim repeated.
George stepped close. "Couldn' we maybe bring him in an' they'll lock him up? He's nuts, Slim. He never done this to be mean."
Slim nodded. "We might," he said. "If we could keep Curley in, we might. But Curley's gonna want to shoot 'im. Curley's still mad about his hand. An' s'pose they lock him up an' strap him down and put him in a cage. That ain't no good, George."
"I know," said George. "I know."
Carlson came running in, "The bastard's stole my Luger," he shouted. "It ain't in my bag." Curley followed him, and Curley carried a shotgun in his good hand. Curley was cold now.
"All right, you guys," he said. "The nigger's got a shotgun. You take it, Carlson. When you see 'urn, don't give 'im no chance.
Shoot for his guts. That'll double 'im over."
Whit said excitedly, "I ain't got a gun."
Curley said, "You go in Soledad an' get a cop. Get AI Wilts, he's deputy sheriff. Le's go now." He turned suspiciously on George.
"You're comin' with us, fella."
"Yeah," said George. "I'll come. But listen, Curley. The poor bastard's nuts. Don't shoot 'im. He di'n't know what he was doin'."
"Don't shoot 'im?" Curley cried. "He got Carlson's Luger. 'Course we'll shoot 'im. "
George said weakly, "Maybe Carlson lost his gun.,,
"I seen it this morning," said Carlson. "No, it's been took."
Slim stood looking down at Curley's wife. He said, "Curley-maybe you better stay here with your wife."
Curley's face reddened. "I'm goin'," he said. "I'm gonna shoot the guts outa that big bastard myself, even if I only got one hand. I'm gonna get 'im."
Slim turned to Candy. "You stay here with her then, Candy. The rest of us better get goin'."
They moved away. George stopped a moment beside Candy and they both looked down at the dead girl
Outside the noise of the game stopped. There was a rise of voices in question, a drum of running feet and the men burst into the barn. Slim and Carlson and young Whit and Curley, and Crooks keeping back out of attention range. Candy came after them, and last of all came George. George had put on his blue denim coat and buttoned it, and his black hat was pulled down low over his eyes.
The men raced around the last stall. Their eyes found Curley's wife in the gloom, they stopped and stood still and looked.
Then Slim went quietly over to her, and he felt her wrist. One lean finger touched her cheek, and then his hand went under her slightly twisted neck and his fingers explored her neck. When he stood up the men crowded near and the spell was broken.
Curley came suddenly to life. "I know who done it," he cried.
"That big son-of-a-bitch done it. I know he done it. Why-ever'body else was out there playin' horseshoes." He worked himself into a fury. "I'm gonna get him. I'm going for my shotgun. I'll kill the big son-of-a-bitch myself. I'll shoot 'im in the guts. Come on, you guys." He ran furiously out of the barn. Carlson said, "I'll get my Luger," and he ran out too.
Slim turned quietly to George. "I guess Lennie done it, all right,"
he said. "Her neck's bust. Lennie coulda did that."
George didn't answer, but he nodded slowly. His hat was so far down on his forehead that his eyes were covered.
Slim went on, "Maybe like that time in Weed you was tellin'
about."
Again George nodded.
Slim sighed. "Well, I guess we got to get him. Where you think he might of went?"
It seemed to take George some time to free his words. "He-would of went south," he said. "We come from north so he would of went south."
"I guess we gotta get 'im," Slim repeated.
George stepped close. "Couldn' we maybe bring him in an' they'll lock him up? He's nuts, Slim. He never done this to be mean."
Slim nodded. "We might," he said. "If we could keep Curley in, we might. But Curley's gonna want to shoot 'im. Curley's still mad about his hand. An' s'pose they lock him up an' strap him down and put him in a cage. That ain't no good, George."
"I know," said George. "I know."
Carlson came running in, "The bastard's stole my Luger," he shouted. "It ain't in my bag." Curley followed him, and Curley carried a shotgun in his good hand. Curley was cold now.
"All right, you guys," he said. "The nigger's got a shotgun. You take it, Carlson. When you see 'urn, don't give 'im no chance.
Shoot for his guts. That'll double 'im over."
Whit said excitedly, "I ain't got a gun."
Curley said, "You go in Soledad an' get a cop. Get AI Wilts, he's deputy sheriff. Le's go now." He turned suspiciously on George.
"You're comin' with us, fella."
"Yeah," said George. "I'll come. But listen, Curley. The poor bastard's nuts. Don't shoot 'im. He di'n't know what he was doin'."
"Don't shoot 'im?" Curley cried. "He got Carlson's Luger. 'Course we'll shoot 'im. "
George said weakly, "Maybe Carlson lost his gun.,,
"I seen it this morning," said Carlson. "No, it's been took."
Slim stood looking down at Curley's wife. He said, "Curley-maybe you better stay here with your wife."
Curley's face reddened. "I'm goin'," he said. "I'm gonna shoot the guts outa that big bastard myself, even if I only got one hand. I'm gonna get 'im."
Slim turned to Candy. "You stay here with her then, Candy. The rest of us better get goin'."
They moved away. George stopped a moment beside Candy and they both looked down at the dead girl
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