“Two and a half cents.”
“Why, goddamn it, a man can’t make his dinner!”
“That’s what we’re payin’. There’s two hundred men coming from the South that’ll be glad to get it.”
“But, Jesus, mister!”
“Go on now. Either take it or go on along. I got no time to argue.”
“But—”
“Look. I didn’ set the price. I’m just checking you in. If you want it, take it. If you don’t, turn right around and go along.”
“Twenty-five, you say?”
“Yes, twenty-five.”
TOM DOZED ON HIS MATTRESS. A stealthy sound in the room awakened him. His hand crept to the rifle and tightened on the grip. He drew back the covers from his face. Rose of Sharon was standing beside his mattress.