They get wantin' to fight all the time." "Yeah, they get mean," Slim agreed. "I seen the guys that go around on the ranches alone.
And then there was light funny windows#
At the windows the light of the evening still made the window squares bright. Take a real smart guy and he ain't hardly ever a nice fella." George stacked the scattered cards and began to lay out his solitaire hand. Seems to me sometimes it jus' works the other way around. "Guy don't need no sense to be a nice fella. Well, I ain't done nothing like that no more." "He's a nice fella," said Slim. An' he was so damn nice to me for pullin' him out. He damn near drowned before we could get him. I turns to Lennie and says, 'Jump in.' An' he jumps. One day a bunch of guys was standin' around up on the Sacramento River. I've beat the hell outa him, and he coulda bust every bone in my body jus' with his han's, but he never lifted a finger against me." George's voice was taking on the tone of confession.
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That wasn't so damn much fun after a while. If I tol' him to walk over a cliff, over he'd go. Made me seem God damn smart alongside of him. But he was too dumb even to know he had a joke played on him. Used to play jokes on 'im 'cause he was too dumb to take care of 'imself. "I used to have a hell of a lot of fun with 'im. George looked over at Slim and saw the calm, Godlike eyes fastened on him. Got kinda used to each other after a little while. When his Aunt Clara died, Lennie just come along with me out workin'. She took him when he was a baby and raised him up. "It ain't so funny, him an' me goin' aroun' together," George said at last. Slim neither encouraged nor discouraged him. If I was bright, if I was even a little bit smart, I'd have my own little place, an' I'd be bringin' in my own crops, 'stead of doin' all the work and not getting what comes up outa the ground." George fell silent. An' I ain't so bright neither, or I wouldn't be buckin' barley for my fifty and found. It jus' seems kinda funny a cuckoo like him and a smart little guy like you travelin' together. You know how the hands are, they just come in and get their bunk and work a month, and then they quit and go out alone. I hardly never seen two guys travel together.
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Hardly none of the guys ever travel together. "What's funny about it?" George demanded defensively. "Funny how you an' him string along together." It was Slim's calm invitation to confidence. Slim moved back slightly so the light was not on his face. There was a clang of horseshoe on iron stake outside and a little cheer of voices.
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He can't think of nothing to do himself, but he sure can take orders." "Jus' tell Lennie what to do an' he'll do it if it don't take no figuring. God awmighty, I never seen such a strong guy." George spoke proudly.
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He damn near killed his partner buckin' barley. Maybe he ain't bright, but I never seen such a worker. We'll have trouble keepin' him from getting right in the box with them pups." "It wasn't nothing," Slim repeated. He'll want to sleep right out in the barn with 'em. Jesus Christ, I don't know how we're gonna get him to sleep in here. No need to thank me about that." George said, "It wasn't much to you, maybe, but it was a hell of a lot to him. "I would of had to drowned most of 'em anyways. Slim sat down on a box and George took his place opposite. Instantly the table was brilliant with light, and the cone of the shade threw its brightness straight downward, leaving the corners of the bunkhouse still in dusk. Slim reached up over the card table and turned on the tin-shaded electric light. Slim and George came into the darkening bunkhouse together. Through the open door came the thuds and occasional clangs of a horseshoe game, and now and then the sound of voices raised in approval or derision. THREE Although there was evening brightness showing through the windows of the bunkhouse, inside it was dusk.