Racetrack handed out papers automatically, it was so easy, this job. He merely had to take money, put it in the cash box and hand out papers. "Tank goodness I kin count!" Racetrack snickered as he remembered the unfortunate Morris Delancy, who couldn't, the fact that Jack had often exploited. Bright Eyes came up from behind him, her cheeks red from the heat, her arms full of papers as she plopped them down on the counter, taking no notice of him. Racetrack smiled and deftly leaned across and kissed her on the cheek.
Bright Eyes looked up and grinned as the boy waiting for his papers watched. "Geez Race! You'd tink dat dey was payin' ya ta kiss yer goil, instead of givin' out papes!" The boy said, his eyes gleaming. Racetrack rolled his eyes and plopped the papers on the counter. "Shudup Tenor! I don't see you smoochin' any goil now do I? Ya cain't get a goil fer miles around 'cus she knows dat ya stink at sweet talkin'! I on the udda hand am merely a charma! Look at da beautiful wife I gots! How did I gets her?"
"She asked you ta marry her?" A voice from the back interrupted. "Yeah, dats da onliest way. Race couldn't get up da guts ta ask her fer real!" Another voice blurted out. Tenor burst out laughing as Racetrack turned red and waved his fist goodnaturedly at the boys. "Aw, get outta hea! I gots woik ta do an' so do you! Get out! Come on, next custama!" Tenor moved out of the line, still doubled over with laughter. Bright Eyes smiled and kissed Racetrack on the cheek, walking back to the back room to get the next load of papers. Racetrack grinned and watched her leave, his head on his hands, totally forgetting his job.
"Um hello. Eaith ta Race! I'd like some papes." Racetrack sat up quickly and found himself looking into the gleaming, brown eyes of Jack Kelly. "Kelly, you ain't been gettin' papes in ages!" Jack laughed. "I know. But I promised yer kid Cowboy dat I would show him da arts of sellin'." Racetrack looked at Jack, remembering when he had made the same offer to David, a small action before the strike had changed their lives forever. "You'se gonna teach my kid da arts? Cowboy, I'm trilled! I'm honored!" Jack rolled his eyes and smiled at his friend. "Hunred papes Race." Race smiled and pulled out the papers with a flourish. "Tanks ol' pal." Jack said gratefully. "Jack, you take care of my kid. An' no talkin' 'bout Santa Fe an' nothin' no how! You undastand?" Bright Eyes' voice projected from the back room. Racetrack and Jack bent over, laughing quietly. "Elephant ears!" Jack whispered between laughs, causing Racetrack to laugh harder. "I don't hear any answers out dere!" Bright Eyes yelled again. "Yeah sure Bright! I'll take care of him!" Jack laughed as he stumbled away. "Don't do dat da whole time Cowboy, somebody will tink yer drunk!" A sixteen year old Fish called. "Hey Race. Hundred papes." Fish said smiling as he watched Racetrack catch his breath, grabbing the counter for support.
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Jack laughed to himself as he made his way back to the Greeley statue where he was supposed to meet five year old Cowboy. He had offered to teach the boy all his tricks, and the boy, his brown eyes shining, had at once accepted. As Jack approached the statue, his ears caught the sounds of yelling. When he got closer he saw what was going on. Cowboy was sitting on top of a larger boy and punching him in the face. The larger boy was shielding his face and trying to take his own punches from time to time. Jack saw with a groan, that the larger boy had the black cowboy hat clenched in his fist. "Give it back I tell ya!! I'll knock yer eyes right outta yer head if'n ya don't!" Cowboy yelled between punches. "OW! Quit it Higgins! I don't hafta give ya nothin'! Yer jest a spoiled brat ya know dat! Not even sharin' yer stuff! OW!"
Suddenly, the cheers from the boys watching the fight died out as Jack appeared on the scene. Cowboy lifted his head and grinned as his favorite Newsie came into sight. He landed a final punch on the boy, grabbed his hat and settled it on his head as he stood up. "Hey ya Cowboy! I was jest settlin' some business!" Jack smothered a smile with difficulty. "Some business. Does it involve killin' dat kid?" Cowboy grinned from under the hat, which practically overshadowed his upper face. "Yeah well, he said dat you didn't give me dis hat. Den he took it. Den he said he betted dat you wasn't even gonna come an' teach me ta sell papes! I had ta Cowboy! I had ta!" Cowboy insisted.
"I didn't wanna start a fight! Dat was all yer doin' Higgins! I was jest havin' a little fun!" The older boy whined as he brushed himself off. Jack glared at the boy. "Yeah, well I'm here. An' Cowboy ain't lyin'. So I tink you betta git goin'." The older boy glared right back at Jack to his surprise. "Yeah, says who? You ain't my boss. An' plus my pop says dat you ain't nothin' but a phony! An' a softie baby!" Jack's eyes narrowed. "Yeah? An' whats yer pop's name?" "I think you already know the answer to that question Cowboy." An all to familiar voice cut in. Jack groaned inwardly as the figure of Oscar Delancy came into view.
"Long time no see, eh Cowboy? Oh, and I see that you are still leading little kids to corruption. He yours?" Oscar sneered as he stood behind his son. "No he ain't mine. He's Race's." Oscar's eyes widened. "He ain't yours? Oh that must mean that you and little Sarah didn't get together eh? Does that mean that Race and Bright Eyes got hitched then? Amazing." Cowboy's figure straightened and his lips curled angrily. "You leave my Papa an' Mama alone! Ya big knuckle head!" Jack laughed aloud as Oscar looked at the little boy truely for the first time. Only then did he realize Cowboy's mistake. Oscar smiled and smacked Cowboy across the head, knocking the boy to the hard pavement. Jack crossed the distance between himself and Oscar quickly and grabbed his collar, pushing him up against a wall. "Oh dat was a big mistake Osca. A big mistake. Listen, if you've got a problem wit' Race or Bright Eyes, or any of dere kids, you come ta me an' we'll settle it. You got dat?" Oscar grinned and pushed Cowboy away, pulling a pistol out of his coat.
Jack's eyes widened at the sight of the gun. "I've moved up in the world Jackie-boy. I don't need lousy fist fights to prove my point. I've got this little baby to do it for me. This baby and over a thousand guys spread all over New York. I've got a name Cowboy. Don't mess with me." Jack watched Oscar, his mouth curled and his hands on the gun. "So yer really gonna shoot me in front of yer own kid. Dats real nice Osca. You haven't changed a bit." A shot rang out from the gun, missing Jack's side by mere inches. "I said don't mess with me Cowboy." As Oscar trained his gun on Jack for the second time, yells rang out from across the plaza. "STOP! Put the gun down!" The boy, Oscar's son yelled to him frantically. "Pop! Its da bulls!" Oscar whirled around to face Jack and quickly fired. Jack sank to the ground as the bullet entered his shoulder. Oscar laughed as he put the gun away and grabbed his son. "I've waited a long time for this Cowboy. The day when I could take you out without a word and without you running your mouth." Oscar then sank into the shadows of a near-by alley as the police arrived.
Cowboy ran to Jack, his eyes wide with horror. "Jack! Jack I'm so sorry! Its all my fault! Its all my fault!" Cowboy cried, tears filling his eyes. Jack smiled weakly and put his hand on the little boy's face. "Don't worry. It was jest my smart mouth gitting me in trouble as usual. Listen Cowboy, don't eva, eva mess wit' dat kid again, no matta what he does to you. Okay? Don't eva do anytin' to him." Cowboy nodded his head quickly as the policemen arrived, asking questions.
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The shot was heard for great distances. One of the places it was heard was the distribution center. Racetrack lifted his head as he heard the first shot ring out, but merely dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. But when a second shot rang out, he did not dismiss it. Against his advice, Tenor ran out to see what was going on. When he came back a few minutes later, his face was pale as he told the news to the boys and to Bright Eyes and Racetrack. "Somebody shot Cowboy!" Bright Eyes grabbed Racetrack for support as her legs seemed to give way. Racetrack's face drained. "Cowboy."
Tenor, then realized his mistake. "Oh not yer Cowboy! Jack! Jack got shot! He was protectin' Cowboy! Cowboy's fine." Bright Eyes sighed with relief. Racetrack on the other hand left the distribution office. "Take me to 'em." He said fiercely. "Race don't do dis! You could git hurt!" Bright Eyes called after him. Racetrack turned back to her, his face set stubbornly. "I gotta go ta Cowboy. An' Jack. I've stuck by him all dis time an' I ain't leavin' him now. Fish watch Taps." Racetrack added. Bright Eyes rolled her eyes. "Den I'm goin' with ya!" She exclaimed as she ran to join him. Racetrack sighed. "You don't give up do ya?" She smiled. "Nope." Then the three of them set out for the plaza.
The plaza was filled with policemen and bystanders. Racetrack and Bright Eyes worriedly searched the crowd for their son. He was found sitting at the base of the Greeley statue, his head in his hands. "Cowboy!" Bright Eyes gasped out loud. Cowboy's head raised, his face red with crying. "Momma!" The strangled yell touched all the bystanders as the little boy rushed into his mother's open arms, Bright Eyes having to kneel down in order to catch her son. "Momma, it was all my fault! I got in a fight wit' da bad guy's kid an' den his Pop shot Jack! An' now Jack's at da hospital all alone! Its all my fault!" Cowboy sobbed into his mother's shoulder, Bright Eyes reassuring him quietly.
Racetrack and Tenor left Bright Eyes and Cowboy at the statue, as they looked for someone who could give them answers. They found their source, a stocky policeman who was asking a little boy questions. " 'Scuse me mistah? I'm um, Anthony Higgins an' my son an' best friend was involved in da little thing that jest happened. I wanna know what happened 'zactly." Racetrack said uneasily as the policeman focused his small eyes on him. "Your son? The little boy?" Racetrack nodded. "Well thats a different matter then. Well there was a shooting. As far as we could figure out from your friend, um, Jack Kelly I believe it was. Anyway, the most we could figure out is that the man who shot your friend was an aquaintance of himself and of the father of that boy. Meaning you I suppose." Racetrack's eyes widened. "So I know who dis is? Did Cowboy, I mean, Jack identify 'im?" The policeman shook his head dejectedly. "No, he passed out from loss of blood unfortunately. But we've got a lid on it. We are going to be on alert from now on so that it doesn't happen again."
Racetrack nodded. "Yeah, well thanks mistah." Racetrack turned back to Tenor as the policeman walked off. "Somebody I know? Who in da woild do I know dat would take a shot at Cowboy?" Tenor laughed suddenly under his breath. "Maybe it was Spot! Sometimes he acts like he wants ta shoot people when he gits angry!" Racetrack grinned at the idea and smacked Tenor, who was now laughing hysterically. "Cool it will ya. It wasn't Spot. He ain't dat stupid. He's stupid sometimes but not dat bad." Bright Eyes approached Racetrack, her arms carrying the little boy, whose head was buried in her neck. "Race, I've gotta take Cowboy home. He ain't feelin' too good. An' plus we gotta git back to da office." Racetrack nodded and ran his hand through Cowboy's curly hair fondly. "Sure, me an' Tenor will be there in a minute. Go ahead an' take Cowboy home I kin watch the office alone fer da rest of da day." Bright Eyes nodded gratefully and started home, her arms still clasped protectively around her son.
"Yer jest gonna drop it! Like dat? You ain't gonna try an' figure out who it was dat shot Jack?" Tenor burst out. "No I ain't. I'll talk ta Cowboy lata, but now I gotta worry about two tings. My job, an' my kids. My kids an' family is numba one on my list. But I hafta woik ta support 'em, so how would you like ta take Bright's place, Whiny?" Racetrack questioned Tenor. Tenor folded his arms across his chest in defeat. "Fine I'll help. But jest fer teday. No more, no less." As the two walked back to the distribution office, Racetrack suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"I jest remembered sometin'. All of my kids wit' da exception of Taps is out sellin' papes. Alone. Grabs an' Fairy is wit' each udda, an' so is Picks an' Pockets. Sunshine an' Angel is okay, dey's wit' Spot. But still, dey're all out there. Alone." Tenor sighed. "Yeah, but like ya said, Taps is still at da distribution office wit Fish. So hadn't we betta be gettin' back befoa Fish goes nuts?" Racetrack paused for a moment more then turned and began to walk slowly and reluctantly back toward the distribution office. "If anytin' happens to those kids," He said worriedly. "Race, nothin' is gonna happen to those kids. They was street smart from da moment dey was born. Dey can take care of themselves. So don't worry 'bout it." Racetrack nodded. "Yeah, yer right Tenor." Tenor rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm right! I'm always right!"
Racetrack smiled broadly as he approached the distribution offices. There was a long line of chattering boys waiting for papers and running among them was Fish. He was chasing a laughing blonde haired boy, who was weaving in and out among the boys, shrieking with laughter. As Taps approached where Racetrack and Tenor were standing, Fish scooped him up, panting. Taps giggled and squirmed in his arms as Fish stood in front of Racetrack and Tenor, panting. "Yer kid, is fast." Fish gasped between breaths. As Taps reached out for Racetrack, Racetrack took him into his arms and plopped him on his shoulders, where the little boy sat still, looking about him. Fish rolled his eyes as he looked at the little boy, now still and contented.
"Say Race, how come he's still fer you, but not fer me?" Racetrack smiled. " 'Cause he knows dat I'm his dad an' yer not." Racetrack said with a smile as he entered the distribution office with Taps still on his shoulders, cooing with happiness. "Hundred papes Race." A young boy said, putting his money on the counter as he spoke. "Papes!" A shrill voice rang out from above the boys. Racetrack looked up curiously. Taps was bouncing on his shoulders and grinning at the boy behind the counter. "Papes!" Taps shrieked again. Racetrack grinned. "Well whaddya know. Dis kid knows his business already! Whaddya tink Tenor?" He asked Tenor as the boy wheeled in more papers from the back room. "I tink dat he should enjoy da time off dat he's got. He'll be woikin' his finga's to da bone soon enough. Ya hear dat?" Tenor asked the little boy. Taps merely smiled at Tenor and grasped the finger that Tenor offered him.
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"C'mon Sunshine! The wata ain't cold! Its poifect! Spot, tell Sunshine dat da wata's poifect!" Little Angel yelled up to Spot who was sitting on the pier. Spot smiled and glanced at Sunshine, who wouldn't immerse herself totally like her sister. She merely stood at the edge of the water primly and soaked her bare feet. Angel on the other hand was totally soaked, her curly hair now straight from the water. She had jumped in fully clothed and then proceeded to splash every person in sight, with the exception of Spot. "I know it ain't cold Angel! I kin feel it! I jest don't wanna go in." Sunshine protested tossing her blonde head. "Angel, its okay. Just keep it down. Sunny don't hafta go in if she don't want ta." Spot reasoned, watching the little girl in the water.
Angel rolled her bright blue eyes and dove under the water. Spot smiled. He could always handle Angel, even when she was at her stubbornest.
Jest like her mudda. Spot thought with satisfaction.
"Spot! Spot! Dere's trouble in Manhattan!" Spot turned around slowly to face his comrade, Red, who was approaching the docks at a fast pace. "Whatsa matta Red? Ya look like somebody's chasin' ya or sometin'." Spot commented as Red approached him. "Yeah well I wish it was dat Spot. Cowboy an' Jack got inta some trouble down in Manhattan dis aftanoon." Spot's eyes darkened. "Bright's Cowboy? An' Jack?" Red nodded. "What happened to 'em? Is Cowboy okay? An', Jack?"
"Cowboy's okay. Race an' Bright have got 'im. But Jack didn't come out of it very good Spot. He got shot in da shoulda. Nothin' big, but still serious enough ta tell ya." Red said, finally catching his breath. "Whatsa matta Spot!" Spot looked down at his now wet knee where Angel had laid her small hands a few moments ago. "Jest some trouble happened. Nothin' you needs ta worry 'bout." Angel was silent for a few moments, her forehead rumpled. "Obviously its sometin', 'cause ya ain't actin' like its nothin'. What happened ta Cowboy an' Jack?" Red chuckled. "Dat little goil has got more insight dan a whole lot of us put togedda." Spot sighed. "Yeah, its infuriatin'." Then he looked down at the young determined face. "Cowboy an' Jack got in an' accident. Cowboy's alright, but Jack ain't."
Angel's face went white and her face was accompanied by the white face of Sunshine. "Is Momma an' Poppa okay?" Sunshine whispered. Red nodded. "Dey's okay. Its jest Jack dat got hoit kid." Sunshine gave a sigh of relief but Angel's face was still white and drawn. "What about da rest of us?" Spot's face registered in confusion. "Whaddya mean kid?" Angel took a deep breath. "Da rest of us. Picks an' Pockets, Taps, Grabs, an' Fairy. Da rest of us. Are dey okay?" Spot's face relaxed as he understood the little girl's quaint words. "I dunno. I guess dat dey're okay." Angel drew in her breath and stood as tall as her small frame could permit. "I wants ta look fer 'em an' make sure dat dey're okay." Spot looked at the girl warily. "How's we gonna do dat? Dis is a big city kid, in case ya haven't noticed. Dey could be anywhere." Angel rolled her eyes and patted Spot's leg almost sympathetically. " Don't be silly. I don't mean by ourselves. Send out da boys. Dey kin spread out betta dan we kin." Spot was silent a moment and then laughed loudly. He then turned to Red. "Well Red, you heaid da captain. Call out da cavalry! Send 'em all ova da city. You got dat?" Red nodded, his face full of mirth as he watched the leader of Brooklyn being ordered about by a small four year old.
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Bright Eyes looked up and grinned as the boy waiting for his papers watched. "Geez Race! You'd tink dat dey was payin' ya ta kiss yer goil, instead of givin' out papes!" The boy said, his eyes gleaming. Racetrack rolled his eyes and plopped the papers on the counter. "Shudup Tenor! I don't see you smoochin' any goil now do I? Ya cain't get a goil fer miles around 'cus she knows dat ya stink at sweet talkin'! I on the udda hand am merely a charma! Look at da beautiful wife I gots! How did I gets her?"
"She asked you ta marry her?" A voice from the back interrupted. "Yeah, dats da onliest way. Race couldn't get up da guts ta ask her fer real!" Another voice blurted out. Tenor burst out laughing as Racetrack turned red and waved his fist goodnaturedly at the boys. "Aw, get outta hea! I gots woik ta do an' so do you! Get out! Come on, next custama!" Tenor moved out of the line, still doubled over with laughter. Bright Eyes smiled and kissed Racetrack on the cheek, walking back to the back room to get the next load of papers. Racetrack grinned and watched her leave, his head on his hands, totally forgetting his job.
"Um hello. Eaith ta Race! I'd like some papes." Racetrack sat up quickly and found himself looking into the gleaming, brown eyes of Jack Kelly. "Kelly, you ain't been gettin' papes in ages!" Jack laughed. "I know. But I promised yer kid Cowboy dat I would show him da arts of sellin'." Racetrack looked at Jack, remembering when he had made the same offer to David, a small action before the strike had changed their lives forever. "You'se gonna teach my kid da arts? Cowboy, I'm trilled! I'm honored!" Jack rolled his eyes and smiled at his friend. "Hunred papes Race." Race smiled and pulled out the papers with a flourish. "Tanks ol' pal." Jack said gratefully. "Jack, you take care of my kid. An' no talkin' 'bout Santa Fe an' nothin' no how! You undastand?" Bright Eyes' voice projected from the back room. Racetrack and Jack bent over, laughing quietly. "Elephant ears!" Jack whispered between laughs, causing Racetrack to laugh harder. "I don't hear any answers out dere!" Bright Eyes yelled again. "Yeah sure Bright! I'll take care of him!" Jack laughed as he stumbled away. "Don't do dat da whole time Cowboy, somebody will tink yer drunk!" A sixteen year old Fish called. "Hey Race. Hundred papes." Fish said smiling as he watched Racetrack catch his breath, grabbing the counter for support.
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Jack laughed to himself as he made his way back to the Greeley statue where he was supposed to meet five year old Cowboy. He had offered to teach the boy all his tricks, and the boy, his brown eyes shining, had at once accepted. As Jack approached the statue, his ears caught the sounds of yelling. When he got closer he saw what was going on. Cowboy was sitting on top of a larger boy and punching him in the face. The larger boy was shielding his face and trying to take his own punches from time to time. Jack saw with a groan, that the larger boy had the black cowboy hat clenched in his fist. "Give it back I tell ya!! I'll knock yer eyes right outta yer head if'n ya don't!" Cowboy yelled between punches. "OW! Quit it Higgins! I don't hafta give ya nothin'! Yer jest a spoiled brat ya know dat! Not even sharin' yer stuff! OW!"
Suddenly, the cheers from the boys watching the fight died out as Jack appeared on the scene. Cowboy lifted his head and grinned as his favorite Newsie came into sight. He landed a final punch on the boy, grabbed his hat and settled it on his head as he stood up. "Hey ya Cowboy! I was jest settlin' some business!" Jack smothered a smile with difficulty. "Some business. Does it involve killin' dat kid?" Cowboy grinned from under the hat, which practically overshadowed his upper face. "Yeah well, he said dat you didn't give me dis hat. Den he took it. Den he said he betted dat you wasn't even gonna come an' teach me ta sell papes! I had ta Cowboy! I had ta!" Cowboy insisted.
"I didn't wanna start a fight! Dat was all yer doin' Higgins! I was jest havin' a little fun!" The older boy whined as he brushed himself off. Jack glared at the boy. "Yeah, well I'm here. An' Cowboy ain't lyin'. So I tink you betta git goin'." The older boy glared right back at Jack to his surprise. "Yeah, says who? You ain't my boss. An' plus my pop says dat you ain't nothin' but a phony! An' a softie baby!" Jack's eyes narrowed. "Yeah? An' whats yer pop's name?" "I think you already know the answer to that question Cowboy." An all to familiar voice cut in. Jack groaned inwardly as the figure of Oscar Delancy came into view.
"Long time no see, eh Cowboy? Oh, and I see that you are still leading little kids to corruption. He yours?" Oscar sneered as he stood behind his son. "No he ain't mine. He's Race's." Oscar's eyes widened. "He ain't yours? Oh that must mean that you and little Sarah didn't get together eh? Does that mean that Race and Bright Eyes got hitched then? Amazing." Cowboy's figure straightened and his lips curled angrily. "You leave my Papa an' Mama alone! Ya big knuckle head!" Jack laughed aloud as Oscar looked at the little boy truely for the first time. Only then did he realize Cowboy's mistake. Oscar smiled and smacked Cowboy across the head, knocking the boy to the hard pavement. Jack crossed the distance between himself and Oscar quickly and grabbed his collar, pushing him up against a wall. "Oh dat was a big mistake Osca. A big mistake. Listen, if you've got a problem wit' Race or Bright Eyes, or any of dere kids, you come ta me an' we'll settle it. You got dat?" Oscar grinned and pushed Cowboy away, pulling a pistol out of his coat.
Jack's eyes widened at the sight of the gun. "I've moved up in the world Jackie-boy. I don't need lousy fist fights to prove my point. I've got this little baby to do it for me. This baby and over a thousand guys spread all over New York. I've got a name Cowboy. Don't mess with me." Jack watched Oscar, his mouth curled and his hands on the gun. "So yer really gonna shoot me in front of yer own kid. Dats real nice Osca. You haven't changed a bit." A shot rang out from the gun, missing Jack's side by mere inches. "I said don't mess with me Cowboy." As Oscar trained his gun on Jack for the second time, yells rang out from across the plaza. "STOP! Put the gun down!" The boy, Oscar's son yelled to him frantically. "Pop! Its da bulls!" Oscar whirled around to face Jack and quickly fired. Jack sank to the ground as the bullet entered his shoulder. Oscar laughed as he put the gun away and grabbed his son. "I've waited a long time for this Cowboy. The day when I could take you out without a word and without you running your mouth." Oscar then sank into the shadows of a near-by alley as the police arrived.
Cowboy ran to Jack, his eyes wide with horror. "Jack! Jack I'm so sorry! Its all my fault! Its all my fault!" Cowboy cried, tears filling his eyes. Jack smiled weakly and put his hand on the little boy's face. "Don't worry. It was jest my smart mouth gitting me in trouble as usual. Listen Cowboy, don't eva, eva mess wit' dat kid again, no matta what he does to you. Okay? Don't eva do anytin' to him." Cowboy nodded his head quickly as the policemen arrived, asking questions.
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The shot was heard for great distances. One of the places it was heard was the distribution center. Racetrack lifted his head as he heard the first shot ring out, but merely dismissed it as a figment of his imagination. But when a second shot rang out, he did not dismiss it. Against his advice, Tenor ran out to see what was going on. When he came back a few minutes later, his face was pale as he told the news to the boys and to Bright Eyes and Racetrack. "Somebody shot Cowboy!" Bright Eyes grabbed Racetrack for support as her legs seemed to give way. Racetrack's face drained. "Cowboy."
Tenor, then realized his mistake. "Oh not yer Cowboy! Jack! Jack got shot! He was protectin' Cowboy! Cowboy's fine." Bright Eyes sighed with relief. Racetrack on the other hand left the distribution office. "Take me to 'em." He said fiercely. "Race don't do dis! You could git hurt!" Bright Eyes called after him. Racetrack turned back to her, his face set stubbornly. "I gotta go ta Cowboy. An' Jack. I've stuck by him all dis time an' I ain't leavin' him now. Fish watch Taps." Racetrack added. Bright Eyes rolled her eyes. "Den I'm goin' with ya!" She exclaimed as she ran to join him. Racetrack sighed. "You don't give up do ya?" She smiled. "Nope." Then the three of them set out for the plaza.
The plaza was filled with policemen and bystanders. Racetrack and Bright Eyes worriedly searched the crowd for their son. He was found sitting at the base of the Greeley statue, his head in his hands. "Cowboy!" Bright Eyes gasped out loud. Cowboy's head raised, his face red with crying. "Momma!" The strangled yell touched all the bystanders as the little boy rushed into his mother's open arms, Bright Eyes having to kneel down in order to catch her son. "Momma, it was all my fault! I got in a fight wit' da bad guy's kid an' den his Pop shot Jack! An' now Jack's at da hospital all alone! Its all my fault!" Cowboy sobbed into his mother's shoulder, Bright Eyes reassuring him quietly.
Racetrack and Tenor left Bright Eyes and Cowboy at the statue, as they looked for someone who could give them answers. They found their source, a stocky policeman who was asking a little boy questions. " 'Scuse me mistah? I'm um, Anthony Higgins an' my son an' best friend was involved in da little thing that jest happened. I wanna know what happened 'zactly." Racetrack said uneasily as the policeman focused his small eyes on him. "Your son? The little boy?" Racetrack nodded. "Well thats a different matter then. Well there was a shooting. As far as we could figure out from your friend, um, Jack Kelly I believe it was. Anyway, the most we could figure out is that the man who shot your friend was an aquaintance of himself and of the father of that boy. Meaning you I suppose." Racetrack's eyes widened. "So I know who dis is? Did Cowboy, I mean, Jack identify 'im?" The policeman shook his head dejectedly. "No, he passed out from loss of blood unfortunately. But we've got a lid on it. We are going to be on alert from now on so that it doesn't happen again."
Racetrack nodded. "Yeah, well thanks mistah." Racetrack turned back to Tenor as the policeman walked off. "Somebody I know? Who in da woild do I know dat would take a shot at Cowboy?" Tenor laughed suddenly under his breath. "Maybe it was Spot! Sometimes he acts like he wants ta shoot people when he gits angry!" Racetrack grinned at the idea and smacked Tenor, who was now laughing hysterically. "Cool it will ya. It wasn't Spot. He ain't dat stupid. He's stupid sometimes but not dat bad." Bright Eyes approached Racetrack, her arms carrying the little boy, whose head was buried in her neck. "Race, I've gotta take Cowboy home. He ain't feelin' too good. An' plus we gotta git back to da office." Racetrack nodded and ran his hand through Cowboy's curly hair fondly. "Sure, me an' Tenor will be there in a minute. Go ahead an' take Cowboy home I kin watch the office alone fer da rest of da day." Bright Eyes nodded gratefully and started home, her arms still clasped protectively around her son.
"Yer jest gonna drop it! Like dat? You ain't gonna try an' figure out who it was dat shot Jack?" Tenor burst out. "No I ain't. I'll talk ta Cowboy lata, but now I gotta worry about two tings. My job, an' my kids. My kids an' family is numba one on my list. But I hafta woik ta support 'em, so how would you like ta take Bright's place, Whiny?" Racetrack questioned Tenor. Tenor folded his arms across his chest in defeat. "Fine I'll help. But jest fer teday. No more, no less." As the two walked back to the distribution office, Racetrack suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"I jest remembered sometin'. All of my kids wit' da exception of Taps is out sellin' papes. Alone. Grabs an' Fairy is wit' each udda, an' so is Picks an' Pockets. Sunshine an' Angel is okay, dey's wit' Spot. But still, dey're all out there. Alone." Tenor sighed. "Yeah, but like ya said, Taps is still at da distribution office wit Fish. So hadn't we betta be gettin' back befoa Fish goes nuts?" Racetrack paused for a moment more then turned and began to walk slowly and reluctantly back toward the distribution office. "If anytin' happens to those kids," He said worriedly. "Race, nothin' is gonna happen to those kids. They was street smart from da moment dey was born. Dey can take care of themselves. So don't worry 'bout it." Racetrack nodded. "Yeah, yer right Tenor." Tenor rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm right! I'm always right!"
Racetrack smiled broadly as he approached the distribution offices. There was a long line of chattering boys waiting for papers and running among them was Fish. He was chasing a laughing blonde haired boy, who was weaving in and out among the boys, shrieking with laughter. As Taps approached where Racetrack and Tenor were standing, Fish scooped him up, panting. Taps giggled and squirmed in his arms as Fish stood in front of Racetrack and Tenor, panting. "Yer kid, is fast." Fish gasped between breaths. As Taps reached out for Racetrack, Racetrack took him into his arms and plopped him on his shoulders, where the little boy sat still, looking about him. Fish rolled his eyes as he looked at the little boy, now still and contented.
"Say Race, how come he's still fer you, but not fer me?" Racetrack smiled. " 'Cause he knows dat I'm his dad an' yer not." Racetrack said with a smile as he entered the distribution office with Taps still on his shoulders, cooing with happiness. "Hundred papes Race." A young boy said, putting his money on the counter as he spoke. "Papes!" A shrill voice rang out from above the boys. Racetrack looked up curiously. Taps was bouncing on his shoulders and grinning at the boy behind the counter. "Papes!" Taps shrieked again. Racetrack grinned. "Well whaddya know. Dis kid knows his business already! Whaddya tink Tenor?" He asked Tenor as the boy wheeled in more papers from the back room. "I tink dat he should enjoy da time off dat he's got. He'll be woikin' his finga's to da bone soon enough. Ya hear dat?" Tenor asked the little boy. Taps merely smiled at Tenor and grasped the finger that Tenor offered him.
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"C'mon Sunshine! The wata ain't cold! Its poifect! Spot, tell Sunshine dat da wata's poifect!" Little Angel yelled up to Spot who was sitting on the pier. Spot smiled and glanced at Sunshine, who wouldn't immerse herself totally like her sister. She merely stood at the edge of the water primly and soaked her bare feet. Angel on the other hand was totally soaked, her curly hair now straight from the water. She had jumped in fully clothed and then proceeded to splash every person in sight, with the exception of Spot. "I know it ain't cold Angel! I kin feel it! I jest don't wanna go in." Sunshine protested tossing her blonde head. "Angel, its okay. Just keep it down. Sunny don't hafta go in if she don't want ta." Spot reasoned, watching the little girl in the water.
Angel rolled her bright blue eyes and dove under the water. Spot smiled. He could always handle Angel, even when she was at her stubbornest.
Jest like her mudda. Spot thought with satisfaction.
"Spot! Spot! Dere's trouble in Manhattan!" Spot turned around slowly to face his comrade, Red, who was approaching the docks at a fast pace. "Whatsa matta Red? Ya look like somebody's chasin' ya or sometin'." Spot commented as Red approached him. "Yeah well I wish it was dat Spot. Cowboy an' Jack got inta some trouble down in Manhattan dis aftanoon." Spot's eyes darkened. "Bright's Cowboy? An' Jack?" Red nodded. "What happened to 'em? Is Cowboy okay? An', Jack?"
"Cowboy's okay. Race an' Bright have got 'im. But Jack didn't come out of it very good Spot. He got shot in da shoulda. Nothin' big, but still serious enough ta tell ya." Red said, finally catching his breath. "Whatsa matta Spot!" Spot looked down at his now wet knee where Angel had laid her small hands a few moments ago. "Jest some trouble happened. Nothin' you needs ta worry 'bout." Angel was silent for a few moments, her forehead rumpled. "Obviously its sometin', 'cause ya ain't actin' like its nothin'. What happened ta Cowboy an' Jack?" Red chuckled. "Dat little goil has got more insight dan a whole lot of us put togedda." Spot sighed. "Yeah, its infuriatin'." Then he looked down at the young determined face. "Cowboy an' Jack got in an' accident. Cowboy's alright, but Jack ain't."
Angel's face went white and her face was accompanied by the white face of Sunshine. "Is Momma an' Poppa okay?" Sunshine whispered. Red nodded. "Dey's okay. Its jest Jack dat got hoit kid." Sunshine gave a sigh of relief but Angel's face was still white and drawn. "What about da rest of us?" Spot's face registered in confusion. "Whaddya mean kid?" Angel took a deep breath. "Da rest of us. Picks an' Pockets, Taps, Grabs, an' Fairy. Da rest of us. Are dey okay?" Spot's face relaxed as he understood the little girl's quaint words. "I dunno. I guess dat dey're okay." Angel drew in her breath and stood as tall as her small frame could permit. "I wants ta look fer 'em an' make sure dat dey're okay." Spot looked at the girl warily. "How's we gonna do dat? Dis is a big city kid, in case ya haven't noticed. Dey could be anywhere." Angel rolled her eyes and patted Spot's leg almost sympathetically. " Don't be silly. I don't mean by ourselves. Send out da boys. Dey kin spread out betta dan we kin." Spot was silent a moment and then laughed loudly. He then turned to Red. "Well Red, you heaid da captain. Call out da cavalry! Send 'em all ova da city. You got dat?" Red nodded, his face full of mirth as he watched the leader of Brooklyn being ordered about by a small four year old.
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