It was a warm summers' evening when two figures leaned over the Brooklyn Bridge . Jack listened intently as Spot told him
how life was going on his side of town. The two leaders, having not seen each other for a long while, had a lot to catch up
on. Earlier that day, the word spread like wild fire to all the boys that their leaders wouldn't be home until late that night.
Jack gazed up at the moon gleaming in a deep blue sky. His thoughts began to stray as he recalled first meeting Spot. Jack
had thought the small boy needed help as the Delancy Brothers cornered him into an alley. Jack arrived to find the kid kicking
some serious rear and with rage in his ice cold eye's flinging around to throw himself at Jack."Hey! Jacky Boy? Jack!"
Snapping out of it Jack turned to face his friend. "Are you even listening to me?" Jack sighed, "yeah, well, no, but I had to of
been or else you woulda" "That's wad I thought. Jack held his hands up. "You didn't let me finish", he smiled. "You woulda
thrown a hissy fit and threatened to soak me." "Oh you're askin' for it!" As the two boys played around they failed to notice
the group of men approach behind them. "What have we here?"said a tall burly thug. His fiend spoke up as Jack and Spot
turned around giving each other anxious glances. "I believe," he claimed stepping forward, "that dis one calls himself, what
is it? Dot?" he snickered as he pushed Spot back. Furious, Spot stepped forward, head held high. "My name, is Spot Conlon,
and you are?" "I ain't about ta tell you nuttin'. Spot glared at the man, "Oh is that so?" Jack put his arm in front of Spot and
shot him a wary look, but there was no stopping Spot when he was enraged. As the seven men started throwing punches
Jack had no choice but to fight back. What appeared to be the leader immediately drew a club and smashed it forcefully into
Spot's knee. As Spot collapsed he shot Jack a look of pure shock. How did he know about my knee?! When Spot was young he
had had a run in, literally, with a large carriage and ever since his left knee had been extremely weak. Although the pain was
immense Spot couldn't be beaten so easily. He rose shakily and resumed to, what seemed like, take quite the beating. It
was a hopeless cause. Not only were the men older and larger, but they out numbered the two boys three to one.
Michelle, a tall, thin, brunette walked slowly as she headed out of Manhattan . She had seen all she needed to see. It had
been an extremely busy week for her as she traveled to various parts of New York searching for the group of newsies that
suited her best. Her lodging house back in Chicago had recently caught fire and burnt down. She wasn't about to join up
with any of the surrounding groups so she was forced to move on.
Back on the bridge Jack grunted in pain as he was thrown to the ground. The men above him kicked mercilessly. Jack,
although only catching a brief glance of how Spot was fairing, saw enough to send despair deep down inside him.
Spot was only able to make contact once with his cane before receiving a blow to the stomach and a fist to the jaw. One last
hit sent him sprawled out on the ground. At that time his head slammed into the side of the bridge. Spot lie motionless as
blood seeped out of his skull.
Apparently finished, the leader turned to the others and told them to separate the two boys. Leaving Jack alone on the
bridge the group disappeared into Manhattan with Spot on their shoulders.
Michelle trudged onto the bridge not really caring where she was going. She glanced up to see a group of men rush past her
with a wounded boy on their shoulders. The man in front had bloody knuckles and a glare on his face. His hair was a dark
scraggled mess and his face was covered in a large curly beard. Putting his face into her memory she shrugged, figuring they
were helping him, and walked on. Only a small ways up the bridge Michelle found a young man lying, trembling as he took
shallow breaths. The boys' face was swollen and bloody. He had shaggy brown hair and a firm build. Taking the red
bandanna from his neck she began to put pressure to the gash on his upper left arm. "I gotta get im back ta town." She
mumbled to herself. "Wha'?" Michelle jumped and looked over to see the boy's dismal, chocolate brown eyes staring intently
into hers. "T, ta, take me t to..." He paused to take a shaky breath. "take me to da newsboys lodging house." Jack grimaced
as he tried to get up. When Michelle offered her arm to help him up he gratefully grabbed a hold and pulled himself up.
Leaning heavily on Michelle's shoulder he shivered as the two shakily made their way back toward Manhattan .