"Sure, but no matter how able a New York policeman is, Mr. Seaton, he
can't be a mother! And it's too late! The judge is out o' patience."

"Look here, Foley, hasn't he any friends at all?"

"There's several that want to be friends, but he won't have 'em. He's
sittin' in his cell for all the world like a bull pup the first time
he's tied."

Mr. Seaton cleared his throat. "Foley, let me come round and see him
before you send him over the road, will you?"

"Sure, that can be fixed up. Only don't get sore when the kid snubs
you."

"Nothing a boy could do could hurt me, Foley. You remember that Jack
was not exactly an angel."

"No, that's right, but Jack was always a good sport, Mr. Seaton.
That's why it's so hard to get hold of these young toughs down here!
They ain't sports!" And Foley hung up the receiver with a sigh.

Mr. Seaton preferred to introduce himself to Nucky. The boy was
sitting on the edge of his bunk, his red hair a beautiful bronze in the
dim daylight that filtered through the high window.

"How are you, Enoch?" said Mr. Seaton. "My name is John Seaton.
Officer Foley pointed you out to me the other day as a lad who was
making bad use of a good name. That's a wonderful name of yours, do