The next morning heralded bright sunshine, warm air and bad news that Davey was still trying to figure out how to tell Crutchie.

The answer came far too quickly with a knock on the door.

Crutchie, who was sitting at the table eating breakfast graciously provided by Mrs. Jacobs, froze. He heard Davey open the door, exchanging words with Specs and Albert. Crutchie slowly put down his spoon, thanked Mrs. Jacobs, picked up his crutch and tried to limp out the back door before anyone saw.

"Hey, Crutchie?"

It was Davey, who, to Crutchie's confusion, looked incredibly guilty. Behind him were Albert and Specs.

Crutchie backed up.

"We ain't gonna hurt you," Specs promised, ashamed that he even had to say that to someone he thought of as his brother. "Just come with us, okay?"

"Where?" Crutchie took another step back.

"Lodgin' House," Albert answered. "Race wants to apologize."

Apologize? Race hardly ever apologized. Something was up. Crutchie edged back until his hand found the doorknob. "You're not going to lock me up?"

"No, no!" Specs forced a laugh. "No, Crutchie! We're not. It was all a mistake. We never should've mentioned it. It was all a misunderstandin'!"

"Yeah?" Crutchie eyed them. "For my own good, huh?"

"Yeah, this is all fer your own—Crutchie! Wait!"

Albert and Specs ran to the fire escape, looking down as Crutchie limped down the steps. Albert flew out the front door, running to the bottom of the fire escape. Crutchie froze halfway down, glancing back up. Both Davey and Specs were at the top. Albert was at the bottom.

"I ain't a prisoner!" Crutchie yelled at the three. He turned to his side. "Jack, tell 'em that they can't keep me 'ere. Or send me away. They gotta know that. Please, Jack! Jus' tell 'em."

Crutchie turned back to the newsies. "Jack says tah let me go!"

"Can't do that," Specs said, hurrying down to meet Crutchie on the stairs. Crutchie started to limp away. "Specs—go away—"

Albert buried his face in his hands. "Specs, do what he says."

Specs stopped. "What?"

"He ain't some criminal. Jus' leave 'im. He'll be…fine."

Crutchie and Specs looked at each other. "But….I can still come back to the Lodgin' House, right?" Crutchie asked, nervous. Specs turned away, and Crutchie chased after him.

"Specs! Wait!"

They ran into the Jacobs' tenement. Specs ran into the hall while Davey tried to stop Crutchie.

"Crutchie, you can't—"

Crutchie faltered, almost tripping. Les walked in, glancing from left to right at the scene.

"Did you tell him, Davey?"

Davey cringed, and Crutchie turned pale. "Tell me what?"

"That Davey knew about puttin' you in an asylum—"

"No!" Davey yelled. "Crutchie, he's—he's joking, I would never—"

"Davey, stop lying!" Les shouted.

Crutchie stared at the duo, aghast. "You—you lied to me—"

"I never said I didn't know!" Davey protested, reaching out to stop Crutchie from leaving. "You can't leave, Race will—"

Crutchie pushed him away, accidentally lashing out with his crutch. Davey fell to the ground, groaning. Les' mouth dropped open, and Crutchie started to back away.

"I'm—I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean to do that!"

Les stepped in front of Davey, arms folded across his chest. "Go away!"

"It was an accident, Les!"

"GO. AWAY!"

Crutchie needed no second bidding. He limped out the door, disappearing into the streets once more.