The next day a doctor examined Tails' body: he had been stabbed four times, suffered 6 broken ribs and had a massive contusion on his skull. The funeral was held a day later, with many newises from Manhattan, the Bronx, Harlem, and Midtown in attendance to pay their respects to one of the most well-known newsies of that time.
Months past, days grew shorter it seemed, and for the most part Newsies from each area stayed away from other areas, save for the Manhattan and Brooklyn boys. Their bond grew strong and soon they were the most respected newsies of all New York. Spot had become well known for his sly, smooth and smart-ass remarks. Spot had assumed second-in-command since Tails' death, so many times the newsies would report to him and he would relay the message to Blazer. Spot had grown into quite a man since he had become a Newsie. He was practically emotionless and greatly feared by many newsies around New York. He had grown cold to kindness and was in a constant appearance of anger.
It was a misty, April day in the year 1897, as some of the newsies from Manhattan and Brooklyn gathered to eat lunch at Tibby's, laughing and joking amongst themselves as typical boys do. Skitts approached Spot's table, "Yo, Spot. I got some chirpin' to do."
Unfortunately for the reporting newsie, Spot was rather agitated that day, "Spill it, Skitts. I'm a busy man." Skitts nervously proceeded, "Ya know how you'se sayin you saw a guy wearin' a red bandana the night Tails' got killed?" "Yeah, what of it?" Spot muttered looking down at the paper he had been reading.
"Me and Sprint was out doin' some reconnaissance for ya in Queens and that's where we found him." Skitts sputtered.
"Found who?!" Spot questioned impatiently, his attention now fixed on Skitts.
"The fella with red bandana; they call him Cobra. He's da new leader of Queens. We'll take ya to him. He's been seen at Medda's a lot recently." Skitts said as he got up to leave. Spot thanked him and finished his reading. Suddenly he heard Blazer's voice, "Spot, we need ta talk."
"I ain't got time Blazer, I got a lead on Tail's killahs." Spot pleaded.
"That can wait Spot. Brooklyn's future is on da line." To this, Spot froze and fixed his attention toward his leader.
Spot was all ears for whatever it was that Blazer had to say because it concerned Brooklyn, and Brooklyn was everything to Spot Conlon. HE waited patiently as Blazer collected his thoughts. After a minute or so, Blazer stared right into spot's eyes, "Spot, I can't do this no more. I can't be a newsie, I can't be the leadah of Brooklyn no more."
Spot froze, "Whaddaya mean Blazer? What are me and the boys gonna do without you'se." As much as Spot enjoyed the thought of being in command, he didn't want to lose Blazer like he had lost Tails. Though he wasn't being killed, leaving was about the closest thing Blazer could do. Brooklyn would fall apart, as much as the newsies respected Spot, they respected Blazer much more, and Tails before him; Brooklyn would be vulnerable to a takeover. Blazer was 16 now, Spot was nearing 13 and many thought his age would be his downfall.
"Spot, I'se watched you grow dese past two years, you've become so much more in dat time then I ever dreamed of becoming. Brooklyn doesn't deserve you, it may never; but Brooklyn does need you, Spot Conlon." Blazer said affirmatively. Even though Spot had grown closer to Tails than he had any other newsie, Blazer had become almost another brother. The newsies, in general, were Spot's brothers, but his connection with Tails and Blazer had far exceeded that of the others.
"Where you headed, Blazer?" Spot asked with a small look of worry inscribed on his face. "England, since my pa died, ma moved da family back to England, save for me. Now she wants me home, gonna put me through the last of an education, I s'pose." Half an hour passed when a man walked into the restaurant and called out a name, "Is there a Daniel Gordon here? His heavy British accent was quite obvious, "I was told he would be here." Blazer looked up and raised his hand, "Dat's me." The man motioned to him, "Daniel, I'm your Uncle Charles. I have come to take you back to England. Your mother wishes to see you." the man said rather happily.
"Your name's Daniel?" Spot questioned. Blazer nodded, with a smirk, "See you around, Tommy."
Spot halted him, "No, not Tommy. Tommy Conlon died in the fire, along with the rest of his family. The name is Spot Conlon, I'm a Brooklyn newsie and I'll soak anybody that tries to take away our dear Brooklyn." Spot grinned, "I guess this is goodbye then Daniel." This time Blazer shook his head, "Naw, Spot, I'll always be Blazer ta you and da boys. See ya round." He gave the ceremonious spit-in-the-hand shake and left Tibby's, never looking back. Spot watched out the window as Blazer got into a carriage with his uncle; he knew he would never see Blazer again or ever understand why Blazer truly wanted to leave. Maybe when he got older he'd figure it out, but until then he had a job to do. He would break the news of Blazer's departure to the rest of the boys tonight…somehow.
"Blazer's gone!?" Donny shouted, as the boys gathered in the lobby of the lodging house that night. Spot nodded silently. A flurry of questions flared from the rest of the newsies. "Where'd he go?" "Who's ta be our leadah, Spot?" "Get Blazer back!" The arguing continued for several moments, while Spot sat quietly with his feet propped up on the table. "Whenever you'se are all done bickering, I'll tell ya what I know." The room quieted. "Blazer's gone to England to be with his muddah. He appointed me the leader." He pulled his cane from his belt and slammed it on the table, "Any objections?" The boys all nodded in unison with approval, not only because they respected Blazer's decision but also because they understood that Tails had envisioned Spot as his successor from the day he and Blazer found him behind the crates in that alley. They truly respected Spot and would do as he wished because they believed in the brotherhood that was Brooklyn. The boys were given a bottle of champagne by Josiah to celebrate the event. They laughed, joked and drank happily as Spot watched the excitement from his new perch, the leader's "throne" as it was called.
Spot Conlon? Leader of Brooklyn? What a joke! It should have been me! I should have struck a deal with Cobra to get rid of all three of those morons at once. Tails, you failed miserably. Your successor failed and now so will Spot Conlon! The mysterious boy slipped from the noisy lodging house and out into the dark streets.
