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"Well, I understand you're to be taken riding!" he said. "For the love of heaven, Frank, what have you done to the boy?" "Me? Nothing! It was the Canyon. Let me tell you about that first trip." And he told rapidly but in detail, the story of Nucky's first two days in the Canyon. Seaton listened with an absorbed interest.
The bitter cold began to give way to the increasing warmth of the sun. Sensation crept back into Nucky's feet and hands. By a supreme effort for many moments he managed to fix his eyes firmly on Frank's broad back, and though he could not give up his hold on the pommel, he sat a little straighter.
Far, far below were tiny shrubs that the porter said were trees and below these, orderly strips of brilliant colors and still below, and below ! Nucky moistened his dry lips and once more bolted to the hotel. Just within the door, John Seaton met him. "Well, Enoch?" There was no coldness in Nucky's eyes now. They were the frightened eyes of a child. "I can't stand that thing!" he panted.
"I shouldn't think he would with a wonder like you around," said the young Irishman with a certain quality of admiration in his voice. Nucky's thin chest swelled and he paid the waiter with an air that exactly duplicated the café manner of Marty, the Dude. Then, with a casual nod at Frank, he started back toward Luigi's, for his evening's work. It began to snow about ten o'clock that night.
And if I have any reason to think you've been anything but courteous to her, I'll break every bone in your body. You say you don't want sob stuff. You'll get none of it from me." Not a muscle of Nucky's face quivered. Mr. Seaton did not wait for a reply, but led the way into the elevator. It shot up to the top floor and Nucky followed into the long, dark hall of the apartment.
Bring that along. Skip now!" Nucky's cheeks were still burning when he met Allen at the corral. Three mules, one a well loaded pack mule, the others saddled, were waiting. Frank leaned against the bars. "Enoch," said the man, "there's no danger at all, if you let your mule alone. Don't try to guide him. He knows the trail perfectly. All you have to do is to sit in the saddle and look up, not down!
His deep set eyes were strained like a child's, listening to a not-to-be-understood explanation of something that frightens him. For a full five minutes he gazed without speaking. Then the sun sank and the Canyon immediately was filled with gloom. Nucky's lips quivered. "I can't stand it!" he muttered again, "I can't stand it!" and once more he bolted. This time he went directly to his room.
He was in poor physical trim but the pile, though it grew slowly, grew steadily. By the time Frank announced the camp ready, Nucky's fuel pile was of really imposing dimensions. And dusk was thickening in the gorge. Before a great flat faced rock that looked toward the river, was a stretch of clean dry sand.
"And don't you appreciate the difference between a home meal like this and one you pick up in Minetta Lane?" "I dunno!" Nucky's face darkened sullenly and he pushed his pudding away. There was silence around the table for a few moments. Mrs. Seaton, quietly watching the boy, thought of what her husband had told her of Officer Foley's account.
"For the simple reason that a fellow with a face like your's doesn't have a bad mother." In the light of the leaping flames Nucky's face fell. "Aw, what you giving us! Sob stuff?" "I'm telling you something that's as true as God. You can't see Him or talk to Him, but you know He made this Canyon, don't you?" Nucky nodded quickly.
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