Race, Crutchie, and Specs were all out selling newspapers for the day. It was getting later by the minute, the sun starting to set. All the other newsies were back at the lodging house, but these three hadn't quite finished yet.
"C'mon Race, hurry up!" and "We's gonna go back to the lodging house without you!" echoed through the quiet alleyway they were walking through to get to a different street. Race had stopped in the middle of the alley, as if listening to something.
"Whaddaya doin', Race? Let's go!" Crutchie complained, the dark alley making him nervous.
"Hold on for a second, would ya? I think I'se hear somethin'." Race whispered. Without another word, he sprinted over to the corner where the alley opened into the street. He looked around the corner.
"Specs, get over here and tell me what you see."
"Why?"
"Because you'se got good vision with them glasses on and I want to make sure that I'm seeing what I'm seeing." Race explained. Specs sighed and looked to where the other boy was pointing.
"Well, if you see Oscar Delancey walking away from someone he just beat up, then you'd be correct." he explained what he saw. By the time he had finished his sentence, Race took off, running to help the figure lying on the ground. Specs followed quickly.
"Hey! Wait for me!" Crutchie cried, trying to catch up with them. By the time he made it over to where his two friends stood, Race was helping the person sit up.
"It's a goil… What was Oscar doin' beating up a goil?" Crutchie whispered. Race shrugged, then looked at the girl. She blinked, starting to regain consciousness. She glanced around nervously, relaxing when she saw that Oscar wasn't around. Then she saw the three boys gathered around her.
"Who are you…?" she whispered, her accent not New York, but Irish. "What happened?"
"I'm Race, the one with the glasses is Specs, an' the one with the crutch, that's Crutchie." He explained quietly.
"Okay… But what happened? I remember asking a guy the directions to the lodging house for the newsboys. Next thing I know, he was beating me up." she told them, now sitting up on her own.
"That was Oscar Delancey. He can soak folks real good. even those of us who's got a crutch." Crutchie explained.
"What's your name?" Specs asked.
"Does a name really matter? You've all got nicknames, anyways…" the girl muttered.
"The last time we didn't know someone's full name, she turned out to be Pulitzer's daughter." Specs pointed out.
"What, so you think I'm some sort of strategist trying to sabotage you?" she asked with a smirk.
"Woah, slow down Professor. We just wanna know ya name." Race replied. She looked at him.
"You just called me Professor." she said quietly.
"Well, you was talking like one."
"Well then there's my name. You all have nicknames, so now I do too. Besides, I'm going to be working with you all now, so I don't see why you can't just call me Professor like you just did." She explained thoughtfully.
"Alright. I dub thee 'Professor'. Or just 'Prof' for short. Professor can be a bit of a mouthful." Race grinned. "Now, what did you mean about working with us?"
"I need a job. The newsies are the only ones who will accept me." she stated simply. Crutchie smiled.
"Welcome to the newsies of New York, then. But uh, we might need to make you look more like a newsie." he told her. Race and Specs helped her stand up, then the four of them headed off towards the lodging house.
Meanwhile, Oscar made his way back to the newspaper building. Once he got there, he was confronted by his brother Morris.
"Why'd you have to go and beat up a girl?" Morris asked. Both boys were known for beating up the newsies and making threats towards them. Of the two of them, however, Morris was bit less vicious.
"What do you mean? You saw the fight?" Oscar asked.
"Of course I did."
"And you didn't help me? She fought back pretty hard. She could have knocked me out worse than I ended up hurting her."
"Why would I help you beat up a girl, even if you are my brother? You could have hurt her badly! And what for?"
"So you'd rather your own brother get hurt?" Oscar replied quickly.
"You can't make me feel guilty, Oscar. You know for a fact that hurting her wasn't the right thing to do. Did you even have a reason?" Morris shot back.
"Why are you so defensive of the newsies all of the sudden? I've never seen you be so kind to them, especially when you've hurt a few of them yourself." Oscar countered. His brother fell silent.
"You know I don't like hurting them… I only do it because if I don't, we'd both be on the streets again." Morris said quietly.
"Then you'd better step up your game, little brother. Because we most definitely will lose our jobs if you don't." Oscar replied before shoving his brother out of the way and leaving the room.
