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- Джон Стейнбек
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"
Where
’
s
Al
now
,
Mr
.
Anderson
?
"
"
He
’
s
over
to
the
house
.
I
had
to
bring
him
out
from
the
hospital
.
"
"
I
’
ll
get
the
doctor
.
We
’
ll
go
over
and
see
him
.
"
"
Eighteen
hundred
dollars
!
"
the
old
man
cried
.
"
He
got
some
of
it
together
,
and
I
loaned
him
some
,
and
then
along
you
come
.
Now
he
hasn
’
t
got
a
thing
.
"
"
I
’
m
awful
sorry
,
"
Mac
said
.
"
Sure
,
you
’
re
sorry
.
That
don
’
t
unburn
Al
’
s
wagon
.
That
don
’
t
mend
his
arm
and
his
ribs
.
And
what
you
doing
to
protect
me
?
They
’
ll
burn
my
house
next
.
"
"
We
’
ll
put
a
guard
around
your
house
.
"
"
Guard
,
hell
.
What
good
’
s
this
bunch
of
bums
?
I
wish
I
never
let
you
on
the
place
.
You
’
ll
ruin
me
.
"
His
voice
had
risen
to
a
high
squeak
.
His
old
eyes
were
watering
.
"
You
just
played
hell
,
that
’
s
what
you
did
.
That
’
s
what
we
get
for
mixing
up
with
a
bunch
of
damn
radicals
.
"
Mac
tried
to
soothe
him
.
"
Let
’
s
go
over
and
see
Al
,
"
he
suggested
.
"
Al
’
s
a
swell
guy
.
I
want
to
see
him
.
"
"
Well
,
he
’
s
all
busted
up
.
They
kicked
’
im
in
the
head
,
too
.
"
Mac
edged
him
slowly
away
,
for
the
men
were
beginning
to
move
in
,
toward
the
shrill
voice
.
"
What
you
blaming
us
for
?
"
he
said
.
"
We
didn
’
t
do
it
.
It
was
those
nice
neighbors
of
yours
.
"
