"Yes, and how much trade have I pulled into your blank blank second
floor for you durin' the time, you blank blank! If I hear any more
about the rent, I'll split on you, you--"

But before Nucky could continue his cursing, the Italian broke in with
a volubility of oaths that reduced the boy to sullen silence. Having
eased his mind, Luigi proceeded to drag the sack into the basement and
slammed the door.

"Nucky! Nucky! He's onlucky!" sang one of the small girls on the
crumbling steps.

"You dry up, you little alley cat!" roared the boy.

"You're just a bastard!" screamed the child, while her playmates took
up the cry.

Nucky lighted a fresh cigarette and moved hurriedly up toward MacDougal
Street. Once having turned the corner, he slackened his gait and
climbed into an empty chair in the bootblack stand that stood in front
of the Café Roma. The bootblack had not finished the first shoe when a
policeman hoisted himself into the other chair.

"How are you, Nucky?" he grunted.

"All right, thanks," replied the boy, an uneasy look softening his cold
eyes for the moment.

"Didn't keep the job I got you, long," the officer said. "What was the