One called, “Go on, go on. What the hell are you waiting for?” The six cars moved ahead, turned a bend and came suddenly on the peach camp.
There were fifty little square, flat-roofed boxes, each with a door and a window, and the whole group in a square. A water tank stood high on one edge of the camp. And a little grocery store stood on the other side. At the end of each row of square houses stood two men armed with shotguns and wearing big silver stars pinned to their shirts.
The six cars stopped. Two bookkeepers moved from car to car. “Want to work?” Tom answered, “Sure, but what is this?”
“That’s not your affair. Want to work?”
“Sure we do.”
“Name?”
“Joad.”
“How many men?”
“Four.”
“Women?”