mid-afternoon Nucky was well equipped for his journey.

To Mary's surprise and pleasure he took care of her, helping her in and
out of the automobile, and waiting on her vigilantly. He was awkward,
to be sure, and silent, but Mary was secretly sure that he was less
resentful toward her than he had been the day before. And she began to
understand her husband's interest in the strong, immature, sullen face.

The train left at six o'clock. Mrs. Seaton went with them to the very
train gates.

"You'll really try to look out for Mr. Seaton, won't you, Enoch?" she
said, taking the boy's limp hand, after she had kissed her husband
good-by.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Nucky.

"Good-by, Enoch! I truly hope you'll enjoy the trip. Run now, or
you'll miss the train. See, Mr. Seaton's far down the platform!"

Nucky turned and ran. Mr. Seaton waited for him at the door of the
Pullman. His jaw was set and he looked at Nucky with curiosity not
untinged with resentment. Nucky had not melted after a whole day with
Mary! Perhaps there were no deeps within the boy. But as the train
moved through the tunnel something lonely back of the boy's hard stare
touched him and he smiled.

"Well, Enoch, old man, are you glad to go?"

"I dunno," replied Nucky.