Sitting on the front steps of a complete stranger, Jack read the newspaper quietly, frowning at the boring New York business and scanning around for any story that had to do with the west. Before the strike began, he did this every day. However, he had missed a few days, and despite his hatred for Pullitzer and Hearst, he could not pass up the opportunity of a discarded newspaper.

"Jack, is it true? Tell me it ain't true!" Mush ran up to Jack at full speed in a complete panic. "Hey, that a pape?"

"No." Jack quickly crumpled it up and tossed it in the mud. "Tell you what ain't true?"

"The guys, they've uh, they've been sayin' things about you. 'Bout Davey too, but really just you."

"Sayin' what, spit it out!"

"Uh, the guys found a book in your pocket! They read it through and... Jack, stop lyin', they all know!"

A few years ago, he passed by a small, run-down book-shop and found, in the window, a small book with a strong-looking cowboy on the front. It inspired him so much, he actually paid for it instead of lifting it like usual, showing the cover to everyone whenever he talks about Santa Fe. However, though too proud to admit, he had never actually opened the book. Jack reached into his back pocket, only to notice it had in fact gone missing.

"They know what, that I'm a cowboy and I'm goin' to Santa Fe? That ain't a surprise to nobody, now beat it."

"You're lyin'."

"I said beat it!" he sighed, looking down at the soggy pile of pulp that used to be a newspaper as Mush ran off.

That evening, Jack entered the lodging house to hear an unusual silence, as all the newsies were present, but were all engaged in one large conversation.

He heard Mush's voice first, "And then he told me to beat it!" with which there was a chorus of laughter.

Upon noticing the gossip was centered around him, Jack hid at the bottom of the staircase to understand just what they were talking about.

He heard Specs next, "He mush be hidin' somethin'..."

"Oh, he's hidin' somethin' alright." Racetrack snarled. "Tell 'em what ya found, Blink."

Jack grimaced: he always hated Kid Blink and was never quite sure why, until he began speaking.

"So this mornin' I was gettin' up, ya know. I didn't wash up or anythin', so's I went right up to get my clothes. So's I grabbed the pants that was hangin' on my bed and put 'em on, and here's the good part, I was so out of it I don't even notice I walked all across the room and grabbed ol' Cowboy's pants on accident!"

Jack, horrified, frowned intensely and looked down at his legs, only to realize his pants were indeed the wrong color. He remained still, trying not to gag a little.

Racetrack interupted. "Ya moron, that ain't the best part. Tell 'em the rest of it!"

"Oh yeah. So's I was walkin' around, doin' stuff for a good hour, so's I decided to take a break and sit. But when I sit, I realize there's this book in my back pocket. But I don't remember no book, I don't even got no books. I gots one eye, I mean-"

"Get on with it, will ya?"

"So's I open the book, and what's ol' Cowboy been readin'? He's-"

"Hey Jack, how's it going?"

Before Kid Blink could finish, David came into the lodging house and approached Jack on the stairs. The entire house fell silent.

"Shh, Dave!" Jack, in a panic, pulled David down to the foot of the stairs where they couldn't be seen from the boys' room. "Watcha doin' here?!"

"What's wrong with you, I just had this idea where-"

"Jeez, keep ya voice down, they'll hear ya!"

"Well, well, well." Racetrack and Kid Blink had made their way to the top of the stairs, looking down at Jack and David, who were crouching in a heap at the bottom. "Looks like you was right, Blink."

"Yeah, looks like somebody's doin' a little eavesdroppin'. Or maybe they're, ya know-"

"Hey, can it, Blink." Jack hoisted himself up with David's shoulder's, glaring at the other two newsies. "Ya gotta say somethin', say it to my face."

"We don't know anythin' you don't, Jackie."

"That ain't good enough, Race, what was you sayin' in there?!"

David stood up next to Jack. "Come on, let it go."

"You stay outta this!"

He put his hand on Jack's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Jack, we can't have fights with the strike going on. Think about the newsies."

Jack, calming down, sighed and looked back at David. "Fine. For the newsies."

Racetrack, raising his eyebrows as Kid Blink laughed nervously, slowly backed up, back into the boys' room. "Well, I wouldn't wanna interrupt anythin'. You kids have fun." He made a clicking noise as the two laughed into the other room. Jack heard a "ya wouldn't believe it!" right before a "we can't tell ya, not now!"

"God dammit!" Jack growled and punched the wall. "I'll soak 'em, I'll soak 'em all!"

Grabbing his shoulders, David held him still. "Jack, come on, calm down! Tell me what's going on."

"Well I'd love to tell ya if I even knew what's goin' on myself. They just pointin' and laughin' and they ain't tellin' me why!"

David raised his eyebrows.

"Okay, fine." Jack sighed. "Ya know that book I had, the one on Santa Fe?"

"Western Will?"

"Yeah Western Will. Ya see, I never actually read it. Well that doof, Blink, he s'pposedly finds it and it turns out Western Will's got some secrets and everybody knows. Don't know what, that's the problem."

"Well, why don't you just tell them you've never read it and that you just like the cover?"

"They'll think I'm bluffin'."

David paused, resting his back against the wall to think. On the other hand, Jack, hands in pockets, stared at David, awaiting an answer.

"Why don't we just steal the book back?"

"They's already seen it, Dave."

"No." He got up from the wall, "If we know why they're laughing at you, then we can disprove it, right?"

"Hey, yeah, that makes sense! Okay, come 'ere." Jack pulled David into sort of a huddle, keeping his voice low. "We'll do it tonight, alright?"

David nodded. "Tonight."

At around midnight, Jack climbed up the scaffolding to David's bedroom window to pick him up. He knocked a few times, hoping he was at the correct window. Sitting nervously for a few seconds, he gasped when the window finally slid up.

"Jack! What are you-" Sarah smiled innocently. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, I uh, I need Dave for a few minutes. He should be waitin' for me."

She turned around for a second, peaking back into the room. "Are you sure? He's fast asleep."

"'Scuse me." Jack climbed halfway into the window. "Hey, Dave, get up!"

"Jack, stop, you'll wake up our parents!"

"Well maybe your brother here shouldn't forget about the only friend he's got. Come on, get a move on!"

Without a word, David rolled out of bed, wearily grabbed his coat, and headed toward the window.

"Come on, we gotta go." Jack grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, darting down the stairs. "Thanks, Sarah!"

"Can we please not run, I just woke up."

"Now normally I'd say yes, but considerin' you forgot about me-"

"I didn't forget about you, I thought you'd come earlier!'

"Yeah, whatever."

David paused. "Jack, you can let go of my hand, you know."

"Yeah, I can." He didn't.

Soon, the two reached the lodging house, tip-toeing up the stairs and into the boys' room. Jack first looked to Kid Blink's bed, and upon seeing it empty, looked to his own bed, only to find it occupied by Kid Blink himself.

"Ah, Dave, I can't do it, I'm gonna throw up."

"Cut it out! Where's Blink?"

"In my bed, Dave, he's in my bed! Jesus Christ, he's done this before, I can tell."

"Just calm down and get the book."

"Yeah."

David stood in the corner as Jack navigated the pitch black room. Besides a few bumps and one "eeew," he was relatively quiet, and no one was awake by the time he returned with the book.

"Great, you got it." The two stared at the book intently, nervous for whatever it may contain.

"We should pro'lly read it outside."

"Yeah, we should."

Jack sat on the curb near the street light, David sitting next to him, both eager and moderately terrified. Clutching the book, Jack looked at David.

"Guess I'll go first." He swallowed hard and opened to the middle, reading a few words before his eyes widened and he involuntarily shut the book.

"What's wrong, what is it?"

"Dave, no, Dave!" He slammed the book of the sidewalk. "Don't you read that book, got it?"

"What did it say?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Jack picked up the book, put it in his pocket, and began to walk away, until David got up and began to follow him.

"Well how can we disprove what they're saying about you if you won't tell me what it is?"

"I don't-" Jack frowned. "I don't need to disprove nothin'."