Chapter 8
When I got to Tibbys everyone was laughing and gathering around the man who had taken their picture the day before.
"Babydoll!" Racetrack exclaimed noticing I was there. "Look at dis! We're in da paper!" he said handing me a copy of the Sun.
"Wow!" I said looking at the picture. "Now Pulitzer's gonna hafta take a look at da strike!"
"Dat's what we figure!" Spot said coming up behind me. He put his arm around my waist. "We're gonna have a rally next week, wit all da New York newsies. Ya gotta promise me dat you'll be dere." he whispered in my ear.
"I will, I promise." I whispered.
"Do ya wanna come to Brooklyn wit me? And stay da night an' stuff?" Spot asked. "Ya can stay in one of our open bunks. None of da guys would bother ya. I promise. See I gotta go so I can check up on my newsies and spread da word about da rally." he explained to me.
"I'd love ta, but I gotta talk ta Racetrack first." I told him.
"Ok, I'll meet ya outside."
"'K, I'll be dere in a minute." I told him. I walked up to Racetrack. "Hey Race, I'm goin' to Brooklyn and I'll be back tomorrow. Can you tell Kloppman for me?" I begged.
"Woah Babydoll! Stayin' da whole night wit Spot Conlon!" he laughed. "Ya, go on, I'll tell Kloppman."
"Thanks, Racetrack!" I smiled, then I bounced happily out the door.
"Ready?" Spot asked.
"Let's go." I smiled.
