breaking with weariness and excitement. "Why don't you look out for
your own kids and let me alone?"

"My only boy is beyond my care. He was killed three years ago,"
returned Seaton. "I've had nothing to do with boys since. And I don't
give a hang about you. It's your name I'm interested in. I hate to
see a fine name in the hands of a prospective gunman."

"And you can't get me with the sob stuff, either," Nucky shrugged his
shoulders.

Seaton scowled, then he laughed. "You're a regular tough, eh, Enoch?
But you know even toughs occasionally use their brains. Do you want to
go to reform school?"

"Yes, I do! Go on, get out o' here!"

"You infernal little fool!" blazed Seaton, losing his temper. "Do you
think you can handle me the way you have the others? Well, it can't be
done! Huntingdon is a real name in this country and if you think any
pig-headed, rotten-minded boy can carry that name to the pen, without
me putting up a fight, you're mistaken! You've met something more than
your match this time, you are pretty sure to find out sooner or later,
my sweet young friend. My hair was red, too, before--up to three years
ago."

Seaton turned and slammed out of the cell. When Foley came to the door
a half hour later, Nucky was again sitting on the edge of the bunk,
staring sullenly at the floor.