That evening people from all parts of the camp gathered to
discuss the renewed orders: Italians, Mexicans, Americans,
Indians.

"They says to my mother," a little Indian girl confided to
Rose-Ellen, "'You no cover up your grub, we throw him out!'" She
laughed into her hands as if it were a great joke.

"They do nothing but talk," said Angelina.

Next day the camp had a surprise. Along came the nurses and men
with badges to help them. Into shack after shack they went,
inspecting the food supplies. Rose-Ellen, staying home with sick
Jimmie, watched a nurse trot out of the Serafini shack, carrying
long loaves of bread and loops of sausage, alive with flies,
while Mrs. Serafini shouted wrathfully after her. Into the
garbage pail popped the bread and sausage and back to the shack
trotted the nurse for more.

That night the camp buzzed like a swarm of angry bees, with
threats of what the pickers would do to "them fresh nurses."

Grandpa, resting on his doorsill, said, "You just keep cool.
They got the law on their side; we couldn't do a thing. Besides,
if you'll hold your horses long enough to see this out, you may
find they're doing you a big kindness."

The people went on grumbling, but they covered their food, since
they must do so or lose it. And they had to admit that there was
much less sickness from that time on.