t thing to do, but it took more guts that he had
to jump off a bridge, so he went on the Road instead.

After he got over his shakes--and he sure had 'em bad--he decided that,
if he never took another drink, it'd be the best thing for him. So he
didn't. He had a kind of dignity, though, and he could really talk, so
he and I teamed up during the wheat harvest in South Dakota. We made all
the stops and, when we hit the peaches in California we picked up Sacks
and Dirty Pete.

Sacks got his monicker because he never wore shoes. He claimed that
gunny-sacks, wrapped around his feet and shins, gave as much protection
and more freedom, and they were more comfortable, besides costing nix.
Since we mostly bought our shoes at the dumps, at four bits a pair, you
might say he was stretching a point, but that's one of the laws of the
Road. You don't step on the other guy's corns, and he don't step on
yours.

So guess why Dirty Pete was called that. Yeah. He hadn't taken a bath
since 'forty-six, when he got out of the army, and he didn't figure on
ever takin' another. He was a damn' good worker, though, and nobody'd
ever try anything with him around. He wasn't any bigger than a Mack
truck. Besides, he was quiet.

Oh, sure. You wanna know why I'm on the Road. Well, it happens I like
whiskers. Trouble is, they're not fashionable, unless you're some kind
of an artist, which I'm not. You know, social disapproval. I didn't have
the guts to face it, so I lit out. Nobody cares on the Road what you do,
so I was okay with my belt-length beard.

A beard's an enjoyable thing, too. There's a certain kind of thrill you
get from stroking it, and feeling its silkiness run through your
fingers. And besides, combing it, and keeping it free of burrs, snarls
and tangles, sort of keeps your spare moments so full that the devil
don't find any idle time to put your hands to work in. If you ask me, I
think that the razor has been the downfall of society. And I'm willing
to bet I have plenty of company with the same opinion.

Show me a man who doesn't let his beard grow once in a while, even if
it's only for a day or so, and you've shown me a man who thinks more of
social pressure than he does of his own comfort. And show me a man who
says he likes to shave, and you've shown me a man who is either a liar
or is asking for punishment.

* * * * *

That's enough about us. Now to get on with the story. You know, if the
Pr