"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 you realize it?" "Every uplifter I ever met's told me so," replied Nucky, ungraciously, without looking up. Mr. Seaton smiled. "I'm no uplifter! I'm a New York lawyer! Supposing you take a look at me so's to recognize me when we meet again." Nucky still kept his gaze on the floor. "I know what you look like. You got gray hair and brown eyes, you're thin and tall and about fifty years old." "Good work!" exclaimed Enoch's caller. "Now, look here, Enoch, can't I help you out of this scrape?" "Don't want to be helped out. I was doin' a man's job and I'll take my punishment like a man." Seaton spoke quickly. "It wasn't a man's job. It was a thief's job. You're taking your sentence like a common thief, not like a man." "Aw, dry up and get out o' here!" snarled Nucky, jumping to his feet and looking his caller full in the face. Seaton did not stir. In spite of its immaturity, its plainness and its sullenness, there was a curious dignity in Nucky's face, that made a strong appeal to his dignified caller. "You guys always preachin' to me!" Nucky went on, his boyish voice 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!"