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- Джон Стейнбек
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- И проиграли бой
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Because
his
fingers
had
nothing
else
to
do
while
he
walked
,
they
snapped
at
his
sides
with
little
rhythmic
reports
.
When
he
spoke
,
his
words
were
like
the
rest
of
him
,
quick
,
nervous
,
sharp
.
"
What
’
s
the
matter
with
your
business
?
"
he
demanded
of
Al
.
Al
went
heavily
on
the
defensive
.
"
Well
,
you
see
—
I
thought
—
—
"
"
You
wanted
to
get
off
the
ranch
,
wanted
to
go
into
town
,
start
a
business
,
town
boy
,
wanted
to
lounge
around
.
Didn
’
t
like
to
whitewash
,
never
did
.
What
’
s
the
matter
with
your
business
?
"
His
eyes
hovered
on
each
of
the
men
,
on
their
shoes
and
on
their
faces
.
Mac
still
looked
into
the
kennel
and
rubbed
the
dogs
’
noses
.
Al
explained
,
"
Well
,
you
see
,
I
brang
these
guys
out
,
they
wanted
to
see
you
.
"
The
old
man
eliminated
Al
.
"
Well
,
they
’
re
here
.
You
can
get
back
to
your
business
now
.
"
Al
looked
at
his
little
father
with
the
hurt
eyes
of
a
dog
about
to
be
bathed
,
and
then
reluctantly
he
climbed
into
his
car
and
drove
disconsolately
away
.
Mac
said
,
"
I
haven
’
t
seen
such
pointers
in
a
long
time
.
"
Al
’
s
father
stepped
up
beside
him
.
"
Man
,
you
never
seen
such
pointers
in
your
life
.
"
A
warmth
was
established
.
"
Do
you
shoot
over
’
em
much
?
"
"
Every
season
.
And
I
get
birds
,
too
.
Lots
of
fools
use
setters
.
Setter
’
s
a
net
dog
,
nobody
nets
birds
any
more
.
Pointer
’
s
a
real
gun
dog
.
"
