Candy squatted down in the hay and watched theface of Curley’s wife. “Poor bastard,” he said softly.

“You George! You stick withus so we don’t think you had nothin’ to do with this.”George moved slowly after them, and his feet dragged heavily.

“You stay here with her then, Candy. The rest of usbetter get goin’.”

“I’m gonna shoot the guts outathat big bastard myself, even if I only got one hand. I’m gonna get ‘im.”

“No, it’s been took.”

“You go in Soledad an’ get a cop. Get Al Wilts, he’s deputysheriff. Le’s go now.” He turned suspiciously on George. “You’re comin’ withus, 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’llshoot ‘im.”

“All right, you guys,” he said. “The nigger’s got a shotgun.

“Couldn’ we maybe bring him in an’ they’ll lock himup? 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 nogood, George.”

“He—would of wentsouth,” he said. “We come from north so he would of went south.”

nodded.

“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 hisforehead that his eyes were covered.

George had put onhis blue denim coat and buttoned it, and his black hat was pulled down low overhis eyes. The men raced around the last stall. Their eyes found Curley’s wife inthe gloom, they stopped and stood still and looked.Then Slim went quietly over to her, and he felt her wrist. One lean fingertouched her cheek, and then his hand went under her slightly twisted neck andhis fingers explored her neck. When he stood up the men crowded near and thespell was broken.

“I could of hoed in the gardenand washed dishes for them guys.” He paused, and then went on in a singsong.And he repeated the old words: “If they was a circus or a baseball game . . . . wewould of went to her . . . . jus’ said ‘ta hell with work,’ an’ went to her. Neverast nobody’s say so. An’ they’d of been a pig and chickens . . . . an’ in thewinter . . . . the little fat stove . . . . an’ the rain comin’ . . . . an’ us jes’ settin’there.”

Candy said, “Sure, George. Sure I’ll do that.”“O.K. Give me a couple minutes then, and you come runnin’ out an’ tell likeyou jus’ found her. I’m going now.” George turned and went quickly out of thebarn.

make

“I’ll work my month an’ I’lltake my fifty bucks an’ I’ll stay all night in some lousy cat house. Or I’ll set insome poolroom till ever’body goes home. An’ then I’ll come back an’ workanother month an’ I’ll have fifty bucks more.”

greatest

Candy asked, “What we gonna do now, George? What we gonna do now?”George was a long time in answering. “Guess . . . . we gotta tell the . . . .guys. I guess we gotta get ‘im an’ lock ‘im up. We can’t let ‘im get away. Why,the poor bastard’d starve.” And he tried to reassure himself. “Maybe they’ll lock‘im up an’ be nice to ‘im.”But Candy said excitedly, “We oughta let ‘im get away. You don’t know thatCurley. Curley gon’ta wanta get ‘im lynched. Curley’ll get ‘im killed.”

hard.

Helooked about helplessly, and he rubbed his beard. And then he jumped up andwent quickly out of the barn.But the barn was alive now. The horses stamped and snorted, and theychewed the straw of their bedding and they clashed the chains of their halters. Ina moment Candy came back, and George was with him.George said, “What was it you wanted to see me about?”

From around the end of the last stall old Candy’s voice came. “Lennie,” hecalled. “Oh, Lennie! You in here? I been figuring some more. Tell you what wecan do, Lennie.” Old Candy appeared around the end of the last stall. “Oh,Lennie!” he called again; and then he stopped, and his body stiffened. Herubbed his smooth wrist on his white stubble whiskers. “I di’n’t know you washere,” he said to Curley’s wife.

settled

Curley’s wife lay with a half-covering of yellow hay. And the meanness andthe plannings and the discontent and the ache for attention were all gone fromher face. She was very pretty and simple, and her face was sweet and young.

clang

“I done a real bad thing,” he said. “I shouldn’t ofdid that. George’ll be mad. An’ . . . . he said . . . . an’ hide in the brush till hecome. He’s gonna be mad. In the brush till he come. Tha’s what he said.”Lennie went back and looked at the dead girl. The puppy lay close to her.Lennie picked it up. “I’ll throw him away,” he said. “It’s bad enough like it is.”

He looked down at her, and carefully he removed his hand from over hermouth, and she lay still. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, “but George’ll bemad if you yell.” When she didn’t answer nor move he bent closely over her. Helifted her arm and let it drop. For a moment he seemed bewildered. And then hewhispered in fright, “I done a bad thing. I done another bad thing.”

“George gonna say I done a bad thing. He ain’t gonna let me tend no rabbits.”He moved his hand a little and her hoarse cry came out. Then Lennie grewangry. “Now don’t,” he said. “I don’t want you to yell. You gonna get me introuble jus’ like George says you will. Now don’t you do that.” And shecontinued to struggle, and her eyes were wild with terror. He shook her then,and he was angry with her. “Don’t you go yellin’,”

Lennie was in a panic. His face was contorted. She screamed then, andLennie’s other hand closed over her mouth and nose. “Please don’t,” he begged.“Oh! Please don’t do that. George’ll be mad.”

Somepeople got kinda coarse hair,” she said complacently. “Take Curley. His hair isjus’ like wire. But mine is soft and fine. ‘Course I brush it a lot. That makes itfine. Here—feel right here.” She took Lennie’s hand and put it on her head.“Feel right aroun’ there an’ see how soft it is.”

“I think you’re nuts,” she said.“No I ain’t,” Lennie explained earnestly. “George says I ain’t. I like to petnice things with my fingers, sof’ things.”

“Don’t you think of nothing but rabbits?”“We gonna have a little place,” Lennie explained patiently. “We gonna havea house an’ a garden and a place for alfalfa, an’ that alfalfa is for the rabbits, an’I take a sack and get it all fulla alfalfa and then I take it to the rabbits.”She asked, “What makes you so nuts about rabbits?”

Lennie sighed deeply. From outside came the clang of a horseshoe on metal,and then a chorus of cheers. “Somebody made a ringer,” said Curley’s wife.

Because this guy says Iwas a natural.” She looked up at Lennie, and she made a small grand gesturewith her arm and hand to show that she could act. The fingers trailed after herleading wrist, and her little finger stuck out grandly from the rest.

He ain’t a nice fella.” And because she had confided in him, she movedcloser to Lennie and sat beside him. “Coulda been in the movies, an’ had niceclothes—all them nice clothes like they wear.

“Me? Sure.”

“I never gotthat letter,” she said. “I always thought my ol’ lady stole it. Well, I wasn’t gonnastay no place where I couldn’t get nowhere or make something of myself, an’where they stole your letters, I ast her if she stole it, too, an’ she says no. So Imarried Curley. Met him out to the Riverside Dance Palace that same night.”She demanded, “You listenin’?

“’Nothertime I met a guy, an’ he was in pitchers. Went out to the Riverside Dance Palacewith him. He says he was gonna put me in the movies. Says I was a natural.

angry.

“If George sees me talkin’ to you he’ll give me hell,” Lennie said cautiously.“He tol’ me so.”

“George ain’t gonna letme tend no rabbits now.

swept

She knelt in the hay beside him. “Listen,” she said. “All the guys got ahorseshoe tenement goin’ on. It’s on’y about four o’clock. None of them guys isgoin’ to leave that tenement. Why can’t I talk to you? I never get to talk tonobody. I get awful lonely.”

caught

“Says I can’t tend no rabbits if I talk to youor anything.

shoveled

Curley’s wife came around the end of the last stall. She came very quietly, sothat Lennie didn’t see her. She wore her bright cotton dress and the mules withthe red ostrich feathers. Her face was made-up and the little sausage curls wereall in place. She was quite near to him before Lennie looked up and saw her.

“Now I won’t get to tend the rabbits. Now he won’t let me.”

Now jus’ forthat you don’t get to tend no rabbits!’”

mound

“Now maybe George ain’t gonna let me tendno rabbits, if he fin’s out you got killed.”

Only Lennie was in the barn, and Lennie sat in the hay beside a packing caseunder a manger in the end of the barn that had not been filled with hay. Lenniesat in the hay and looked at a little dead puppy that lay in front of him. Lennielooked at it for a long time, and then he put out his huge hand and stroked it,stroked it clear from one end to the other.

clang

stamped

ne end of the great barn was piled high with new hay and over the pile hungthe four-taloned Jackson fork suspended from its pulley. The hay came downlike a mountain slope to the other end of the barn, and there was a level place asyet unfilled with the new crop. At the sides the feeding racks were visible, andbetween the slats the heads of horses could be seen.

He pulled out his shirt in back, poured a littleliniment in his pink palm and, reaching around, he fell slowly to rubbing hisback

“Well, jus’ forget it,” said Crooks. “I didn’t mean it. Jus’ foolin’. I wouldn’want to go no place like that.”

halter

crestfallen.

Now Candy aroused himself. “Oh, George! I been figurin’ and figurin’. I gotit doped out how we can even make some money on them rabbits.”

nodded.

stood

“It’s George,” Lennie cried. And he answered, “Here, George. I’m right inhere.”

snorted

dully.

A colored man got to have some rightseven if he don’t like ‘em.”

banged,

She slipped out the doorand disappeared into the dark barn. And while she went through the barn, thehalter chains rattled, and some horses snorted and some stamped their feet.

take

He turnedto Curley’s wife. “You better go home now,” he said quietly. “If you go rightnow, we won’t tell Curley you was here.”

Lennie whined, “I wisht George was here. I wisht George was here.”

cried.

fascinated

Crooks sat perfectly still, his eyes averted,everything that might be hurt drawn in. She turned at last to the other two.

dislike.

funny.”

Crooks seemed to grow smaller, and he pressed himself against the wall.“Yes, ma’am.”

hopelessly

scorn.

Crooks stood up from his bunk and faced her. “I had enough,” he said coldly.“You got no rights comin’ in a colored man’s room. You got no rights messingaround in here at all.

smiled

Candy broke in. “You let this guy alone. Don’t you do no messing aroun’with him. I’m gonna tell George what you says. George won’t have you messin’with Lennie.”

help,

And she looked longest at Lennie, until he dropped his eyes in embarrassment.

gently.

Curley’s wife laughed at him. “Baloney,” she said. “I seen too many youguys. If you had two bits in the worl’, why you’d be in gettin’ two shots of cornwith it and suckin’ the bottom of the glass. I know you guys.”

Negro.

She was breathless with indignation.“—Sat’iday night. Ever’body out doin’ som’pin’. Ever’body! An’ what am Idoin’? Standin’ here talkin’ to a bunch of bindle stiffs—a nigger an’ a dum-dumand a lousy ol’ sheep—an’ likin’ it because they ain’t nobody else.”

Curley started som’pin’ he didn’ finish. Caught in a machine—baloney! Why, he ain’t give nobody the good ol’ one-two since he got hishan’ bust. Who bust him?”

stole

Think I’m gonna stay in that two-by-four house and listenhow Curley’s gonna lead with his left twicet, and then bring in the ol’ rightcross? ‘One-two,’ he says. ‘Jus’ the ol’ one-two an’ he’ll go down.’” Shepaused and her face lost its sullenness and grew interested.

stump

After a pause Crooks said, “Maybe you better go along to your own housenow. We don’t want no trouble.”

amusedly

Lennie watched her, fascinated; but Candy and Crooks were scowling downaway from her eyes. Candy said, “Then if you know, why you want to ast uswhere Curley is at?”

rubbing

slightly

picked

Candy cried, “Sure they all want it. Everybody wants a little bit of land, notmuch. Jus’ som’thin’ that was his. Som’thin’ he could live on and therecouldn’t nobody throw him off of it. I never had none. I planted crops for damnnear ever’body in this state, but they wasn’t my crops, and when I harvested‘em, it wasn’t none of my harvest. But we gonna do it now, and don’t you makeno mistake about that. George ain’t got the money in town. That money’s in thebank. Me an’ Lennie an’ George. We gonna have a room to ourself. We’regonna have a dog an’ rabbits an’ chickens. We’re gonna have green corn an’maybe a cow or a goat.” He stopped, overwhelmed with his picture.

angrily

You’ll be a swamper here tillthey take you out in a box. Hell, I seen too many guys. Lennie here’ll quit an’ beon the road in two, three weeks. Seems like ever’ guy got land in his head.”

promised.”

insisted.

Crooks said darkly, “Guys don’t come into a colored man’s room very much.Nobody been here but Slim. Slim an’ the boss.”

leaned

Candy came in, but he was still embarrassed, “You got a nice cozy littleplace in here,” he said to Crooks. “Must be nice to have a room all to yourselfthis way.”“Sure,” said Crooks. “And a manure pile under the window. Sure, it’s swell.”Lennie broke in, “You said about them rabbits.”

embarrassed.

answered.

Nobody never gets to heaven, and nobodygets no land. It’s just in their head. They’re all the time talkin’ about it, but it’sjus’ in their head.” He paused and looked toward the open door, for the horseswere moving restlessly and the halter chains clinked. A horse whinnied. “I guesssomebody’s out there,” Crooks said.

too.

Gradually Lennie’s interest came around to what was being said. “Georgesays we’re gonna have alfalfa for the rabbits.”

buck

Lennie said miserably, “George wun’t go away and leave me. I know Georgewun’t do that.”

A guy sets alone out here at night, maybe readin’ books orthinkin’ or stuff like that. Sometimes he gets thinkin’, an’ he got nothing to tellhim what’s so an’ what ain’t so. Maybe if he sees somethin’, he don’t knowwhether it’s right or not. He can’t turn to some other guy and ast him if he seesit too. He can’t tell. He got nothing to measure by. I seen things out here. Iwasn’t drunk. I don’t know if I was asleep.

reassured

S’pose you didn’t have nobody. S’pose you couldn’tgo into the bunk house and play rummy ‘cause you was black. How’d you likethat? S’pose you had to sit out here an’ read books. Sure you could playhorseshoes till it got dark, but then you got to read books. Books ain’t no good.A guy needs somebody—to be near him.” He whined, “A guy goes nuts if heain’t got nobody.

growled

“Jus’ setdown,” he said. “George ain’t hurt.”

grumbled.

toward

They’ll take yato the booby hatch. They’ll tie ya up with a collar, like a dog.”

apprehension.

Lennie struggled to understand. “George won’t do nothing like that,” herepeated. “George is careful. He won’t get hurt.

observed

“He won’t do it,” Lennie cried. “George wouldn’t do nothing like that. I beenwith George a long a time. He’ll come back tonight—” But the doubt was toomuch for him.

forward

Lennie’s attention came gradually to what had been said. “What?” hedemanded.

soft

excitement

Crooks laughed again. “A guy can talk to you an’ be sure you won’t goblabbin’. Couple of weeks an’ them pups’ll be all right. George knows whathe’s about. Jus’ talks, an’ you don’t understand nothing.”

old

Crooks leaned forward over the edge of the bunk. “I ain’t a southern Negro,”he said. “I was born right here in California. My old man had a chicken ranch,‘bout ten acres. The white kids come to play at our place, an’ sometimes I wentto play with them, and some of them was pretty nice. My ol’ man didn’t likethat. I never knew till long later why he didn’t like that. But I know now.” Hehesitated, and when he spoke again his voice was softer.

know

ie,

Crooks settled himself more comfortably on his bunk.

quietly,

blame

“The rabbits we’re gonna get, and I get to tend ‘em, cut grass an’ give ‘emwater, an’ like that.”

shouted,

sets

Crooks scowled, but Lennie’s disarming smile defeated him. “Come on inand set a while,” Crooks said. “’Long as you won’t get out and leave me alone,you might as well set down.” His tone was a little more friendly. “All the boysgone into town, huh?”

move

Lennie lost his smile. He advanced a step into the room, then rememberedand backed to the door again. “I looked at ‘em a little. Slim says I ain’t to pet‘em very much.”

repeated.

“Slim an’ George an’ ever’body. George says I gotta stay here an’ not getin no trouble. I seen your light.”

stink.

“Well, I got a right to have a light. You go on get outa my room. I ain’twanted in the bunk house, and you ain’t wanted in my room.”

Crooks said sharply, “You got no right to come in my room. This here’s myroom. Nobody got any right in here but me.”

scowl

Crooks sat on his bunk. His shirt was out of his jeans in back. In one hand heheld a bottle of liniment, and with the other he rubbed his spine.

stirring

His lean face was linedwith deep black wrinkles, and he had thin, pain-tightened lips which werelighter than his face.

There werebattered magazines and a few dirty books on a special shelf over his bunk. Apair of large gold-rimmed spectacles hung from a nail on the wall above his bed.

stable

On pegs were also pieces ofharness, a split collar with the horsehair stuffing sticking out, a broken hame,and a trace chain with its leather covering split. Crooks had his apple box overhis bunk, and in it a range of medicine bottles, both for himself and for thehorses. There were cans of saddle soap and a drippy can of tar with its paintbrush sticking over the edge.

harness

harm,

Lennie smiled with his bruised mouth. “I didn’t want no trouble,” he said. Hewalked toward the door, but just before he came to it, he turned back.“George?”

George turned to Lennie. “It ain’t your fault,” he said. “You don’t need to bescairt no more

“Right thismorning when Curley first lit intil your fren’, you says, ‘He better not fool withLennie if he knows what’s good for ‘um.’ That’s jus’ what you says to me.”

George broke in, “Lennie was jus’ scairt,” he explained. “He didn’t knowwhat to do. I told you nobody ought never to fight him.

drew

“You got your senses inhand enough to listen?” he asked. Curley nodded. “Well, then listen,” Slim wenton. “I think you got your han’ caught in a machine. If you don’t tell nobodywhat happened, we ain’t going to. But you jus’ tell an’ try to get this guy cannedand we’ll tell ever’body, an’ then will you get the laugh.”

stake.

Carlson hurried out. Slim turned to thewhimpering Lennie. “It ain’t your fault,” he said. “This punk sure had it comin’to him.

cried.

Slimand Carlson bent over him. Then Slim straightened up and regarded Lennie withhorror.

miserably.

Curleywas white and shrunken by now, and his struggling had become weak. He stoodcrying, his fist lost in Lennie’s paw.

Curley’s fist was swinging when Lennie reached for it. The next minuteCurley was flopping like a fish on a line, and his closed fist was lost in Lennie’sbig hand.

slashed

George put out his hand and grabbed Slim. “Wait a minute,” he shouted. Hecupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Get ‘im, Lennie!”

bleated

Lennie looked helplessly at George, and then he got up and tried to retreat.Curley was balanced and poised. He slashed at Lennie with his left, and thensmashed down his nose with a right. Lennie gave a cry of terror. Blood welledfrom his nose. “George,” he cried. “Make ‘um let me alone, George.” Hebacked until he was against the wall, and Curley followed, slugging him in theface. Lennie’s hands remained at his sides; he was too frightened to defendhimself.

blankly

His eyes slipped on past and lighted on Lennie; andLennie was still smiling with delight at the memory of the ranch.

Slim throwed a scare into you. You’reyella as a frog belly. I don’t care if you’re the best welter in the country. Youcome for me, an’ I’ll kick your God damn head off.”

saidCarlson. “You let her hang around bunk houses and pretty soon you’re gonnahave som’pin on your hands and you won’t be able to do nothing about it.”

tell

Slim said, “Well, you been askin’ me too often. I’m gettin’ God damn sick ofit.

hung

“I ought to of shot that dog myself, George. I shouldn’t ought to of let nostranger shoot my dog.”

nodded

George said quickly, “Don’t tellnobody about it. Jus’ us three an’ nobody else. They li’ble to can us so we can’tmake no stake.

will,”

An’Candy’ll send a hunderd dollars to bind her.”

broke

Old Candy nodded in appreciation ofthe idea. “We’d just go to her,” George said.

George stood up. “We’ll do her,” he said. “We’ll fix up that little old placean’ we’ll go live there.”

Maybe if I give you guys my money, you’ll let me hoe in the garden even after Iain’t no good at it. An’ I’ll wash dishes an’ little chicken stuff like that. But I’llbe on our own place, an’ I’ll be let to work on our own place.” He saidmiserably, “You seen what they done to my dog tonight? They says he wasn’tno good to himself nor nobody else.

amazed

Then you an’ Lennie could go get her started an’ I’d get a job an’make up the res’, an’ you could sell eggs an’ stuff like that.”

“We got ten bucks between us.” Thenhe said thoughtfully, “Look, if me an’ Lennie work a month an’ don’t spen’nothing, we’ll have a hunderd bucks. That’d be four fifty. I bet we could swingher for that.

You guys got anymoney? Maybe we could do her right now?”

gotta

Tell you what—” He leaned forward eagerly. “S’pose Iwent in with you guys. Tha’s three hunderd an’ fifty bucks I’d put in. I ain’tmuch good, but I could cook and tend the chickens and hoe the garden some.How’d that be?”

ranch.

Candy went on excitedly, “How much they want for a place like that?”George watched him suspiciously. “Well—I could get it for six hundredbucks. The ol’ people that owns it is flat bust an’ the ol’ lady needs anoperation.

When Candy spoke they both jumped as though they had been caught doingsomething reprehensible. Candy said, “You know where’s a place like that?”George was on guard immediately. “S’pose I do,” he said. “What’s that toyou?”

He subsided, grumblingto himself, threatening the future cats which might dare to disturb the futurerabbits.

“They’d nibble an’ they’d nibble,” said Lennie, “the way they do. I seen‘em.”“Ever’ six weeks or so,” George continued, “them does would throw a litterso we’d have plenty rabbits to eat an’ to sell. An’ we’d keep a few pigeons to goflyin’ around the win’mill like they done when I was a kid.” He looked raptly atthe wall over Lennie’s head. “An’ it’d be our own, an’ nobody could can us. Ifwe don’t like a guy we can say, ‘Get the hell out,’ and by God he’s got to do it.An’ if a fren’ come along, why we’d have an extra bunk, an’ we’d say, ‘Whydon’t you spen’ the night?’ an’ by God he would. We’d have a setter dog and acouple stripe cats, but you gotta watch out them cats don’t get the little rabbits.”