The Short Novels of John Steinbeck Read Online Free PDF

knee. “Ruiz was always a liar,” he said. “That soul will need plenty of masses. But do you think a mass has virtue when the money for that mass comes out of men’s pockets while they sleep in wine at Cornelia’s house?”
    “A mass is a mass,” said Pilon. “Where you get two-bits is of no interest to the man who sells you a glass of wine. And where a mass comes from is of no interest to God. He just likes them, the same as you like wine. Father Murphy used to go fishing all the time, and for months the Holy Sacrament tasted like mackerel, but that did not make it less holy. These things are for priests to explain. They are nothing for us to worry about. I wonder where we could get some eggs to eat. It would be good to eat an egg now.”
    Pablo tilted his hat down over his eyes to keep the sun from bothering him. “Charlie Meeler told me that Danny is with Rosa Martin, that Portagee girl.”
    Pilon sat upright in alarm. “Maybe that girl will want to marry Danny. Those Portagees always want to marry, and they love money. Maybe when they are married Danny will bother us about the rent. That Rosa will want new dresses. All women do. I know them.”
    Pablo too looked annoyed. “Maybe if we went and talked to Danny—” he suggested.
    “Maybe Danny has some eggs,” said Pilon. “Those chickens of Mrs. Morales are good layers.”
    They put on their shoes and walked slowly toward Danny’s house.
    Pilon stooped and picked up a beer bottle cap and cursed and threw it down. “Some evil man has left it there to deceive people,” he said.
    “I tried it last night,” said Pablo. He looked into a yard where the green corn was ripe and made a mental note of its ripeness.
    They found Danny sitting on his front porch, behind the rose bush, wriggling his toes to keep the flies off.
    “Ai, amigos, ” he greeted them listlessly.
    They sat down beside him and took off their hats and their shoes. Danny took out a sack of tobacco and some papers and passed them to Pilon. Pilon looked mildly shocked, but made no comment.
    “Cornelia Ruiz cut up the black Mexican,” he said.
    “I heard about it,” said Danny.
    Pablo spoke acidly. “These women, there is no virtue in them any more.”
    “It is dangerous to lie with them,” said Pilon. “I have heard that there is one young Portagee girl here on the Flat who can give a man something to remember her by, if he goes to the trouble to get it.”
    Pablo made disapproving clucking noises with his tongue. He spread his hands in front of him. “What is a man to do?” he asked. “Is there no one to trust?”
    They watched Danny’s face and saw no alarm appear there.
    “This girl’s name is Rosa,” said Pilon. “I would not say her last name.”
    “Oh, you mean Rosa Martin,” Danny observed with very little interest. “Well, what can you expect of a Portagee?”
    Pablo and Pilon sighed with relief.
    “How are Mrs. Morales’ chickens getting along?” Pilon asked casually.
    Danny shook his head sadly. “Every one of those chickens is dead. Mrs. Morales put up some string beans in jars, and the jars blew up, and she fed the beans to the chickens, and those chickens all died, every one.”
    “Where are those chickens now?” Pablo demanded.
    Danny waved two fingers back and forth in negation. “Someone told Mrs. Morales not to eat those chickens or she would be sick, but we scraped the insides good and sold them to the butcher.”
    “Has anybody died?” Pablo asked.
    “No. I guess those chickens would have been all right.”
    “Perhaps you bought a little wine with the money from those chickens?” Pilon suggested.
    Danny smiled cynically at him. “Mrs. Morales did, and I went to her house last night. That is a pretty woman in some lights, and not so old either.”
    The alarm came back to Pablo and Pilon.
    “My Cousin Weelie says she is fifty years old,” Pilon said excitedly.
    Danny spread his hands. “What is it how old in years she is?” he observed