“Sure thing,” agreed Nucky, turning his head ever so little toward the man.

“Enoch, why are you breaking down now?”

“Aw, what difference does it make?” demanded the boy.  “You despise me anyhow!”

“Oh!” ejaculated Seaton as a sudden light came to his groping mind.  “Oh, I see!  What a chump you are, old man!  Of course, I despise the kind of life you’ve led, but I blame Minetta Lane for that, not you.  And I believe there is so much solid fine stuff in you that I’m giving you this trip to show you that there are people and things outside of Minetta Lane that are more worth a promising boy’s time than gambling.  But, you won’t play the game.  You are so vain and ignorant, you refuse to see over your nose.”

“I told you, you despised me,” said Nucky, sullenly.

The man smiled to himself.  Suddenly he took the boy’s hand in both his own.

“I suppose if Jack had been reared in Minetta Lane, he’d have been just as wrong in his ideas as you are.  Look here, Enoch, I’ll make a bargain with you.  I want you to try the Canyon for a week or so, until I get back from the Coast.  If, at the end of that time, you still want Minetta Lane, I’ll land you back there with fifty dollars in your pocket, and you can go your own gait.”

Nucky for the first time turned and looked Seaton in the face.  “Honest?” he gasped.

Seaton nodded.

“Do I have to go down the Canyon?” asked Nucky.

“You don’t have to do anything except play straight, till I get back.”

“I—­I guess I could stand it,”—­the boy’s eyes were a little pitiful in their fear.

“That isn’t enough.  I want your promise, Enoch!”

Nucky stared into Seaton’s steady eyes.  “All right, I’ll promise.  And—­and, Mr. Seaton, would you sit with me till I get to sleep?”

Seaton nodded.  Nucky had made no attempt to free his hand from the kindly grasp that imprisoned it.  He lay staring at the ceiling for a long moment, then his eyelids fluttered, dropped, and he slept.  He did not stir when Seaton rose and went back to his own bed.

It did not snow during the night and the train that had brought Nucky and Mr. Seaton up announced itself as ready for the return trip to Williams, immediately after breakfast.  Nucky slept late and only opened his eyes when Frank Allen clumped into the room about nine o’clock.

“Hello, New York!  Haven’t died, have you?  Come on, we’re going to break trail down the Canyon, you and I.”

“Not on your life!” Nucky roused at once and sat up in bed, his face very pale under its thatch of dark red hair.

“John Seaton turned you over to me.  Said to tell you he thought you needed the sleep more than you did to say good-by to him.”

“He told me last night,” exclaimed Nucky; “that I didn’t have to go down the Canyon.”

“And you don’t, you poor sissy!  You aren’t afraid to get up and dress, are you?” Allen’s grin took away part of the sting of his speech.  “Meet me in the lobby in twenty minutes, Enoch,” and he turned on his heel.