It was not long before deep breaths that were
pathetically near to sobs told the guide that Nucky was asleep. Then
he rolled himself in his own blankets. The moon passed the Canyon wall
and utter darkness enwrapped the Canyon and the river which murmured
harshly as it ran.
Nucky wakened the next morning to the smell of coffee. He sat up and
eyed Frank soberly.
"Hello, New York! This is the Grand Canyon!" Frank grinned as he
lifted the coffee pot from the fire.
Nucky grinned in response. Shortly after, when he sat down to his
breakfast the grin had disappeared, but with it had gone the look of
sullenness that had seemed habitual.
"Frank," said Nucky, when breakfast was over, "do you care if I talk to
you some more about--you know--you know what you said last night? I
never talked about it to any one but Luigi, and it makes me feel
better."
"Sure, go ahead!" said Frank.
"My mother--" began Nucky.
"You mean Luigi's wife," corrected the guide.
"Luigi's wife was crazy about me. She loved me just as much as any
mother could. Luigi's always been jealous about it. That's why he
treated me so rotten."
"Bad women can be just as fond of kids as good women," was Frank's
comment. "What did she look like? Can you remember?"
"I don't know whether I remember it or if it's just what folks told me.
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