Chapter Four

Another day of hard work followed, they sold many more papes than usual, quite apart from the ideas that the 'World' seemed to have had about the appeal of this story the city was as intrusive as usual. Although many people pretended that they did not feel any sorry for the old man, it was unlikely that any of them really meant it. They could cover their feelings though, pretend they weren't there; this was probably because they had things to do, people to speak to. They spent the whole day telling people about it. The newsies only had each other in the wide majority of cases and that meant, in a situation like this one, that the issue was thrust into their minds a lot. Later that evening they were all listening to Race talk, completely half hearted, about his day at the track, all that is except Jack. It was not anything out of the ordinary of for newsies to disappear for a few days, perhaps to visit friends in Harlem or Queens but they were all silently worried about the fact that Jack was out late. They didn't expect him to return that evening and they just hoped that he only wanted some time to think. In the middle of all these thoughts Davie burst in his work clothes,
"Hi you guys" he said "I just came from work". Mush muttered a "hey" but he was one of the few who did. Davie stared at the newsboys and then sat down on the edge of race's bunk. He picked a paper that lay on the small cupboard where Race put his cigars. He saw that it was yesterday's copy of the 'World' newspaper. He didn't read it; he just lightly ran his fingers over the Bold lettering of the printed headlines then pressed them down to slightly smudge the ink. It was then that he realised what he felt about the whole Pulitzer issue, he'd had a lot to think about over the last two days with work. He had heard about the story of course but not really thought, until now. He knew that he felt some guilt too, he tried to hide it though, he knew in his heart that the strike had been the right thing to do. His brow caved into a surface of deep creases and that meaningful look that the newsboys were all so familiar with appeared once more. They knew that he was thinking and none of them made any attempt to stop him. It was as if they had a silent agreement within the group, they had all witnessed him develop several solutions to problems in this way before and although they felt that that was impossible in this case they remained silent yet hopeful, more out of habit than anything else. David's bright blue eyes were like the centre of a flame and they bored into the hearts of many of the newsboys now as he focused, unblinking on a wooden sword that lay discarded on the floor, it looked very similar to the one that Les had treasured. One of the younger newsies must have left it there. As they all watched him in solemnity they saw something that they'd never seen before, something that was almost beyond belief. A single crystalline tear formed in the reddened corner of his right eye and slowly crept down his cheek. He made no attempt to wipe it away, just let it fall, maybe he wasn't aware of it, he just leant forward, his soft curls of hair cascading over his forehead. The newsboys were obviously
daunted. They had been at Les' funeral and David had not cried then yet now he had lost that control that he always maintained. Finally he spoke, in little more than a whisper, reminiscent of the voice he had used after Denton had almost left them when he had urged them not to trust anyone but newsies, yet without the power and fire he had spoken with then and as he spoke it became obvious that he didn't believe what he said any more than he expected the others to; "Look, we can't blame ourselves for this, right? Pulitzer would have seen us die in the streets and not have lifted a finger, he didn't care, why should we care about him?"
"Cause I guess we're better people than him Dave" said a small voice from the doorway, Davie turned quickly to face the door, and stared into the eyes of the figure who stood there. "Jack" was all that he said, yet the relief in his voice was obvious, once again Jack had spoken Davids views with the courage ,or stupidity as some called it, that David just didn't have . Every one of the newsboys in that room breathed a silent sigh of relief, Jack was still their leader and they needed him to be strong. "Well cowboy" said David "guess you're smarter than me then, you always were the sympathetic one" "Nah, I'm not smarter than you, never". With that Jack sat next to David and after a few seconds of nervous glances around the room one by one the newsboys came to sit as near to them as they could. They felt closer then than they ever had done even in the strike and more than one of the newsies shed tears during the time they sat like this. It was so long, minutes turned into hours, they just cried and
whispered about how they felt. It was very late when Davie stood up and walked out of the door, it closed then opened again, his head appeared around it, "Carrying the banner" he said and he closed the door carefully.