The trip down Bright Angel the next day was an unqualified success.
They took old Funny Face and camped for the night. After supper, Frank
muttered an excuse and wandered off toward the mules, leaving Nucky and
Seaton by the fire.
"Frank thinks you ought to stay out here with him, Enoch," said Seaton.
"What did you say to him when he told you that?" asked Nucky eagerly.
"I said I hoped you'd go back to New York with me, but that the decision was up to you."
Nucky said nothing for the moment. Seaton watched the fire glow on the boy's strong face. When Nucky looked up at his friend, his eyes were embarrassed and a little miserable.
"Did Frank tell you about our talk down here?"
Seaton nodded.
"Do you know?" the boy's voice trembled with eagerness. "Was she my mother?"
"Foley thinks not. He says she spoke with an accent he thought was Italian. When I get back to New York I'll do what I can to clear the matter up for you. Queer, isn't it, that human beings crave to know even the worst about their breed."
"I got to know! I got to know! Mr. Seaton, I ran away from Luigi one time. I guess I was about eight. I wanted to live in the country. And I got as far as Central Park before they found me. He got the police on my trail right off. And when he had me back in Minetta Lane, first he licked me and then he told me how bad my mother was, and he said if folks knew it, they'd spit on me and throw me out of school, and that I was lower than any low dog. And he told me if I did exactly what he said he'd never let any one know, but if I didn't he'd go over and tell Miss Brannigan. She was a teacher I was awful fond of, and he'd tell the police, and he'd tell all the kids. And after that he was always telling me awful low things about my mother—"