One of the Boys
Allie or 'Spitfire." Was one of the new newsies in Jack Kelly's immense ranks; after running away and already been to Brooklyn she settled with the Manhattan newsies. It was easy to appear like a boy; her hair was incredibly short, long for a boy of course. She ditched her glasses part of her disguise; putting them by Specks' night-stand; he was wearing them now. Spitfire walked up to the desk and put her money down. "Hundred papes." She said gruffly; she heard the other newsies brake out in surprised murmurs. Not even David had taken a hundred papes on his first day. She heaved the papes over her shoulder walked into the square and cried out: "Coal Workers on strike! Police called!"
"Kid that's not how to sell a pape."
Said one newsie with a cigar
"How 'bout you show me then smart one!"
Spitfire said handing him a pape. He grinned wryly
"So that's why they call you Spitfire!"
"It took ya' that long to figure that out?"
"Harsh. Well I'm Racetrack."
"I don't have all day Race. How do you sell a pape?"
Spitfire said crossing her arms.
"Like this: Coal workers buried alive! Hundreds dead!" A man walked by took the pape and gave Racetrack a quarter.
"What?! It says hundreds not attacked and they are not buried alive!"
"It's improvin' the truth; yeesh you sound like David!"
She shook her head.
"So do they really make you eat the papes you don't sell?"
"Yeah; newsprint is the worse stuff in the world."
"Isn't that a waste of papes?"
"Buyin' to many is."
Spitfire looked across the square to see Jack talking to a newsie who was confronting a girl. "Who's that?" She asked. Race shrugged "Eh I just hope we don't have another Sarah episode with that one."
"Sarah episode?"
"Cowboy's old girl."
"Oh Sarah Jacobs?"
"You know her?"
Spitfire gulped; she was about to blow her cover.
"I've heard her name once or twice."
"Well we better get sellin"
"Yeah I guess."
Spitfire only had one pape left. She cried out "Mayor in affair with waitress!" Only the headline said that the mayor had given a waitress a ridiculous tip of fifty dollars. "Whew that's all my-" She started to say when a hand clamped down over her mouth and grabbed her throat in a choke-hold. "Lemme o! Lemme o!" She said nearly unable to speak. A fist met her in the stomach knocking the air out of her lungs. The gorilla let her drop to the cobbled streets. Spitfire got up on her knees and looked up at her attacker; his ice blue eyes shining with cruelty.
"WHY YOU LOUSY-!"
A shock went up her spine when the gorilla with her attacker kicked her in the back. "Jack! Jack!" She heard Racetrack yell. She felt one more impact: on her right eye "That's gonna be one heck of a shiner in the morin." Said a voice as she blacked out.
"I can't believe it Jack! A goil! With US!"
"Calm down Mush. She's a good newsie; Race told me she sold all of her hundred papes on her first day."
"Good newsie or not; were not Brooklyn Jack."
"Too bad Mush; she's staying."