Enoch’s lips quivered, and he turned his head toward the fire. Seaton waited, patiently. After a while he said, “Enoch, the most important thing in a man’s life is his philosophy. What do you think life is for? By what principles do you think a man ought to be guided? Do you think that the underlying purpose of life is dog eat dog, every man for himself, by whatever method? That’s your gambler’s philosophy. Or do you think we’re put here to make life better than we found it? That was Abraham Lincoln’s philosophy. Before you decide for the Grand Canyon or for New York, you ought to discover your philosophy. Do you see what I’m driving at?”
“Yes,” said Nucky, “and I don’t have to wait to discover it, for I’ve done that this week. I want to go into politics so I can clean out Minetta Lane.”
Seaton looked at the lad keenly. “Good work, Nucky, old man!”
The boy spoke quickly. “Don’t call me Nucky! I’m Enoch, from now on!”
“From now on, where?” asked Frank, strolling into the firelight.
“New York!” replied Enoch. “I’d rather stay here, but I got to go back.”
“Mr. Seaton, have you been using bribery?” Frank was half laughing, half serious.
“Well, nothing as attractive as guiding on Bright Angel trail!” exclaimed John.
“And that’s the only job I was ever offered I really wanted!” cried Enoch ruefully.
The men both laughed, and suddenly the boy joined them, laughing long and a little hysterically. “O gee!” he said at last, “I feel as free and light as air! I got to take a run up and down the sand,” and a moment later they heard his whistle above the endless rushing of the Colorado.
“Ideas are important things,” said Seaton, thoughtfully. “Such a one as that beast Luigi has planted in Enoch’s mind can warp his entire life. He evidently is of a morbidly sensitive temperament, proud to a fault, high strung and introspective. Until some one can prove to him that his mother was not a harlot, he’ll never be entirely normal. And it’s been my observation that one of the most fundamentally weakening things for a boy’s character is his not being able to respect his father or mother. Luigi caught Enoch when his mind was like modeling clay.”
“Do you think you can clear the matter up?” asked Frank.
“I’ll try my utmost. It’s going to be hard, for Foley’s no fool, and he’s done a lot of work on it with no results. If I don’t settle the matter, Enoch is going to be hag-ridden by Minetta Lane all his life. I know of a chap who was lame for twenty years because when he was about ten, he had a series of extraordinarily vivid dreams portraying a curious accident that he was not able to distinguish from actual happenings. It was not until he was a man and had accidentally come in contact with a psychologist who analyzed the thing down to facts for him that he was cured. I could cite you a hundred cases like this where the crippling was mental as well as physical. And nothing but an absolute and tangible proof of the falsity of the idea will make a cure. Some day there are going to be doctors who will handle nothing but ideas.”