A middle-aged man stood next to a lamp post, slipping embossed cards into the hands of certain passers-by while ignoring others. Music and noise poured out of every window in the bar behind him, inviting people inside. There was a steady stream of people between where Boots stood waiting with David and the pub Jack had just disappeared into.

"I told him this ain't gonna work without Race," Boots said mildy to David as Jack headed back their way with a scowl on his face.

"Mind if I ask who we're looking for? David asked.

"A ghost," Jack interjected as he stopped in front of Boots and David. He scowled darkly at Boots. "Thought you said McNeir's was a sure thing but there sure as hell ain't anyone we know in there."

"It was worth a shot," Boots shrugged.

"Any other bright ideas?" Jack asked as he stared moodily at the surrounding crowd. Boots studied a scuff mark at the tip of his left shoe and hoped maybe there was the slightest chance Jack would give up on this rash idea he was stuck on so they could all finally head home. Spending the night in Brooklyn was something only Jack would have suggested after the meeting they'd just had with Spot Conlon. But pushing one's luck seemed to just be the way Jack preferred to operate.

"Why are we looking for a ghost?" David asked in his usual naïve way. Boots had to hand it to him, David was holding up pretty well considering he'd been closer than he knew to ending up as an example to the others of what happened when you crossed Brooklyn.

"Well, it ain't gonna be any easier now that the whole city knows what we're doing here," Boots pointed out, ignoring David's question for the moment.

"You heard him, he's known about all of it before we even got here," Jack answered. "He's probably sitting up there right now, laughing his ass off at us."

"This would have been easier with Race," Boots reiterated in a tired voice. David looked from one to the other with confusion and Boots began to feel sorry for leaving him out of the conversation. "We're looking for a girl, Dave."

"A girl?" David repeated with a raised eyebrow. He turned to Jack with a crooked grin. "Jack Kelly can't find a girl. Tear out the front page, we got a new headline."

"Funny, Dave," Jack muttered. "This ain't the kind of girl who is easy to find-"

"I thought you were an expert," David interrupted.

"-probably sent her to Harlem by now," Jack continued as though David hadn't spoken.

Boots reached up and scratched his head as he looked around. "She don't leave Brooklyn but you're right, odds are pretty good he's got her tucked away somewhere."

"I read Les a story like that once," David interjected. "About a girl locked up…think she was a princess or something…"

"She ain't a princess," Jack and Boots said at the same time.

"Sorry," David told them, getting red in the face. "Just trying to help."

"It's getting pretty dark, might go better if we head back to the docks."

Jack stalked off in the direction of the waterfront with David right on his heels but Boots hesitated for a moment before following the other two. He scanned the area but couldn't find any familiar faces even though he was fairly sure he was being watched. Of course, being a Manhattan newsie in Brooklyn meant that being watched was nothing new. Boots began to whistle a nameless tune as he finally started off in the same direction as Jack and David.

"It ain't gonna be easy," Race had told him just before he took off toward Midtown. Boots should have known that if Race was choosing not to go to Brooklyn, then the whole asking Spot Conlon for help thing was a fool's errand. "He ain't ever seen Dave before so who knows how that'll go, but if it goes south, then you got one other option."

"Why ain't you telling Jack all this?" Boots asked nervously. He certainly didn't want to think about what would happen if Spot Conlon told them 'no'. He'd already seen what Spot and his crew were capable of.

"'Cause you got history with Tay-"

"Shit," Boots swore under his breath. "I ain't interested in getting mixed up in that again."

"You got the easy part," Race explained. "All you gotta do is get her attention. You got those same marbles still?"

"Yeah," Boots answered with a puzzled look. "What the hell is she gonna want with them? She ain't got a slingshot."

"No, but she's a thief. I ain't saying it's the best way, you can never tell what she'll take and what she won't." Race stopped for a moment and seemed to be thinking back. "She's like a magpie, leave something out and chances are she'll come sneaking around. If it goes the way I think it will, Jack'll probably try finding her himself but don't count on it working. Just follow Spot. Wherever he is, she's somewhere near. And vice-versa so be careful." Race's somewhat vague advice echoed in his ears as Boots lay awake on the filthy warehouse floor. For some reason Spot had given them permission to stay the night, although Boots had a feeling that his generosity would only last until sun-up the next morning. Of course it wasn't anything much but Jack had at least procured them a corner off on their own. There was a lodging house in Brooklyn, similar to the one in Manhattan, but Boots had persuaded Jack to stay down by the waterfront. It was where Spot stayed and Boots planned on heeding Race's advice, however misguided it may have been.

"You was holding out on him." Boots sat up straight as he heard a familiar voice and he peered into the dark but could only make out a shadowy outline. Per her usual style, Tay had decided to make an appearance at the most unconventional time.

"W-what?" Boots asked, unsure if he was still asleep or awake.

There was a slight rustle of material and Boots felt his marble bag land in his lap. The bag was considerably lighter than when he had first set the trap earlier that evening.

"I'm gonna keep these three, if you don't mind," Tay answered. Boots understood that it wasn't as though he really had a choice. The fact that she left him any at all showed how different Tay was from the other newsies.

"What do you want with 'em?" Boots asked. "You ain't got a sling shot."

Tay ignored the question and reached over, taking Boots by the hand and led him out onto the maze of wharfs and docks. The moon was bright but Boots still stumbled through the unfamiliar territory, cursing out loud as he smashed his toe on a warped plank of wood that was sticking up. Tay moved easily through the dark, making no sound as she strayed further ahead. Before Boots could protest Tay turned back quickly, pressing down on his shoulders and pushing him back behind a pile of old machinery and broken down crates. He nearly bit his tongue in half to keep from crying out when he smashed his shin against a low beam he neglected to see as he scrambled into the hiding place. Perspiration stood out on his forehead as he tried to ignore the pain radiating up his leg.

The pier that had earlier been filled with people and noise now stood quiet. There was a lone lantern hanging from a nail, creating a small circle of light that revealed a lone figure sitting in the otherwise empty space. Spot was staring out over the water and smoking a cigarette when Tay walked up and took a seat beside him. Boots was hoping that he'd avoid detection while remaining close enough that he could hear their conversation.

In the time since Boots had spent that one night in Brooklyn he had only seen Tay the one time when, a month earlier, she had left Spot and sought refuge in Manhattan. Boots had been charged with the somewhat unlucky task of acting as a messenger boy between Tay and Race. Having his name mixed up in Tay's mess meant Boots had spent more than his fair share of time waiting for Spot or one of the Brooklyn boys to find him and soak him for interfering. When Boots had heard Tay had willingly returned to Brooklyn he was partly relieved but he also felt a bit sorry for her. He wasn't sure whether to believe Racetrack's notion that Tay could talk Spot into joining the strike but after Spot had turned Jack away earlier Boots was willing to give anything a chance.

As Boots watched the pair Tay leaned toward Spot and rested her head on his shoulder. The gesture made Boots more nervous than ever. He'd never seen anyone get that close to Spot, let alone touch him, without ending up with a black eye or worse. Fortunately for Tay, Spot didn't seem to care but Boots still felt apprehensive.

"What'd you take from 'em?" Spot's voice was so low that Boots barely caught the question.

"Nothing. There wasn't nothing to take."

"Don't lie to me." Tay hesitated for a moment and Spot took advantage of the moment to reach over and grab the bag Tay held in her lap. He sorted through the contents before Tay could protest and he flung two items down onto the dock with a disgusted look. Boots recognized the worn marble bag as his own but the other item surprised him. It was a book. The same book he'd seen Jack carry in his back pocket on a daily basis.

"You never learn," Spot muttered. "I told you to stay away from them."

"And I did," Tay countered as she bent down to pick up the items. Spot didn't bother responding to the obvious lie. Tay flicked through the pages of the book, concentrating on it as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. "Wonder why Race didn't come with 'em."

"You know why," Spot answered as he blew a thin stream of smoke into the air.

"He's still my friend," Tay muttered. She tucked the two stolen items back into the bag and seemed ready to leave when Spot's hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist. Tay jerked back but couldn't break his hold as Spot slid the sleeve of her dress up her arm.

"Look at me." Tay lifted her eyes to meet Spot's. "That's why you told him about this, right? 'Cause you're such good friends? He knows all about you spilling your guts to Kelly and keeping him in the dark so he ain't interested in sticking his neck out for you no more. He's not coming back."

Tay glanced down at where Spot's fingers held her wrist and then looked up at him with a smirk that rivaled his own. "If that was true, then how come they's looking for me? I don't care what you say, he's still my friend. And don't be sore with me 'cause you let some kid still wet behind the ears get under your skin."

Spot's hand was at Tay's throat in a second and Boots felt his entire body grow cold as he watched helplessly from the sidelines. He regretted his foolish decision to follow the two and realized that he was in way over his head. Race had not prepared him for the unpredictability of Spot and Tay's relationship. The first time he'd met Tay he'd gotten the distinct impression that something was not right and witnessing the scene right in front of him only cemented that idea in his mind. Tay appeared surprisingly calm even as Boots began to tremble, scared for her and scared for himself.

"Don't you ever get tired of losing?" Spot asked with a cruel smile. He was toying with her, running his thumb along her jawline even as he continued to hold her carefully, his hand curved around the back of her neck. "I know everything that goes on in that pretty little head of yours. You really think I don't know you already got this whole plan? You expect me to join this fucking strike so I can get caught and you're free of me, right? Free to leave Brooklyn. Hate to break your heart, doll, but it ain't happening." Tay pressed her lips together in anger before turning her face away while Spot kept his gaze locked on her. Boots nearly jumped out of his skin when, without turning, Spot announced, "C'mon out, Kelly."

Jack stepped out into the light from just feet away from where Boots remained hidden, his heart pumping wildly in his chest as he watched the two leaders face one another again. This time there was none of the casual joking or shaking of hands. Without warning Spot shoved Tay off the crate the two were sitting on and toward Jack. Tay stumbled a bit but was able to get to her feet and stood glaring back over her shoulder at Spot.

"Heard you was looking for something. Guess I didn't make myself clear earlier when I told you I wasn't interested in playing games," Spot commented. He gestured toward Tay before lighting another cigarette. "It's two bits, by the way."

"Two bits?" Jack asked, clearly unsure of where the conversation was going. Boots knew Jack had spent minimal time in Brooklyn and usually relied on Race to reveal the ins and outs of life there.

"To fuck her," Spot explained casually. "I'm guessing that's what you want with her. She ain't good for much else. Now time is money, Jacky-boy. So pay up or she does."

"You said you wouldn't do this," Tay cut in as she turned on her heel. Jack appeared to be a mix of annoyed and exhausted as he watched the conversation play out. Boots hadn't even thought about the fact that anyone else would be out there at that hour and was grateful that Spot's discovery of Jack meant that he could at least stay hidden and out of that mess.

"Don't get bent out of shape. He knows you're a whore," Spot answered, clearly enjoying himself. "And I gave you a choice, so you got no one but yourself to blame."

"Sure you ain't interested in playing games, Spot? What the hell do you call this shit?" Jack interjected. Spot's mood quickly changed and Boots felt his stomach knot as a dangerous gleam shone in Spot's eyes as he looked across at Jack. Tay seemed to recognize the look and moved toward Jack with her hand out. Boots saw she was holding the book and marble bag from earlier.

"Here, take it," Tay told Jack in a low voice. "I know you ain't got any money so just take this and we'll be even, okay? I took it earlier and I'm sorry. Just take it and go, please."

"I ain't playing a fucking game, Jacky-boy. You had no problem sticking your nose into my business earlier and I just figured you'd want to settle your debt. If that ain't the case, then I suggest you take your boy back there, pick up that mouth of yours, and get the fuck out of my city while you still have two good legs to walk on."

Boots realized that Spot had known his whereabouts all along but he decided to hold out on showing himself. While Jack stood contemplating the choice in front of him Boots got to his feet as quietly as possible, feeling his muscles protest as he'd been sitting in one position for far too long. As Jack strode by Boots quickly matched him, step for step, as they headed back to the warehouse in silence to wake David and make the long walk back toward Manhattan. Boots looked back over his shoulder just once before following Jack and saw Tay standing at the point where the lantern light met the shadows with her back facing Spot who remained seated. Boots was unable to read her expression and he spent most of the walk back thinking about just what he'd be telling Racetrack the next time they met.