Lennie crept to his bunk and sat down, trying not to attract attention. Carlson reached under his bunk and brought out his bag.
He didn’t look at old Candy, who still faced the wall. Carlson found a little cleaning rod in the bag and a can of oil.
He laid them on his bed and then brought out the pistol, took out the magazine and snapped the loaded shell from the chamber.
Then he fell to cleaning the barrel with the little rod.
When the ejector snapped, Candy turned over and looked for a moment at the gun before he turned back to the wall again.
Carlson said casually, “Curley been in yet?” “No,” said Whit. “What’s eatin’ on Curley?”
Carlson squinted down the barrel of his gun. “Lookin’ for his old lady. I seen him going round and round outside.”
Whit said sarcastically, “He spends half his time lookin’ for her, and the rest of the time she’s lookin’ for him.”
Curley burst into the room excitedly. “Any you guys seen my wife?” he demanded. “She ain’t been here,” said Whit.
Curley looked threateningly about the room. “Where the hell’s Slim?” “Went out in the barn,” said George.
“He was gonna put some tar on a split hoof.” Curley’s shoulders dropped and squared. “How long ago’d he go?”
“Five-ten minutes.” Curley jumped out the door and banged it after him. Whit stood up.
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