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The children wandered through Brooklyn calling and yelling the younger Conlon's name. There was no answer to their calls. They really didn't expect one. Trouble Conlon loved to play what he called, 'hidin' an' seekin''. Only it wasn't in a restriscted area. All of New York was his playground. The little imp was well-known among the nearest districts to Brooklyn. Elderly men sitting around a boxing ring would laugh and give him a pretzel before he dashed off again. Then when his siblings came around, the same men would tell them where they saw him run off to.
Jade frowned as she called her brother's name again. "C'mon. Let's try dis way." She said, turning back to downtown Brooklyn. "Jade are ya crazy? Whaddya doin'? Trouble probably hightailed it fer Manhattan. Da UDDA way." Sketch insisted. "I dunno, it's weird. I gots a funny feelin' dat he's down here somewheres." She said, walking away insistantly. Sketch sighed and threw his hands in the air, motioning to his younger brothers and winking at Angel and Sunshine. The younger boys' eyes widened as they saw the smoke from the fire in the building rise up in front of them. "Whoa!! Who done dat?" Flames muttered. "Obviously some bad people." Mouse said quietly. "You got dat right Mouse. Sheesh. Why would dey wanna boin dis ol' dump?" Marbles murmured. "I dunno. But I have a feelin' dat our culprit's around here somewhere's. Hey! Listen." Jade cocked her head and Sketch frowned. Amidst the hubub surrounding the fire, a tinny voice came to their ears. "Fire! Fire! Loverly fire! Wow it's big! I wonda if it goes ta heaven? Oh well! Fire! Fire! Loverly fire!" Jade rolled her eyes as she heard the sing-song voice and the group made their way towards the sound.
Seated in the grass not far away from the burning building was a little boy, kicking his feet contentedly, one hand planted in the grass, the other clutching some dandilions in his sweaty, chubby palm. He turned his blonde head as the group approached and he jumped up with a grin. "Jade! You win hidin' an' seekin'! Lets play again! I'm da hida!" He made a move to dash off again, but Sketch caught him by the seat of his pants and pulled him back by his suspenders, lifting him up in the air so that Jade could see him face to face. "Listen ta me Trouble. Don't, eva, do dis, again! You undastan' me? Yer too little ta be runnin' off! 'Specially at fires! Fire kin hoit ya bad! You undastan'?" Trouble's small forehead furrowed, then he grinned. "Oh I wouldn't have gotten hoit! Da boys made sure dat I stayed outta da way while dey made it. It was neat! Jade kin we have a fire at our house sometime? Do ya tink dat Papa would make one?" Jade's back straightened. "No I don't tink dat Papa would make one Trouble." She said, her voice low and obviously not comprehending the question.
"Trouble, what boys?" Sketch asked, twirling his brother on his suspenders to face him. "I dunno! Da boys dat made dat fire! One of 'em was tall an' he had black hairs an' I dunno what color his eyes was, but dey looked black too, an' dere was a whole bunches off boys. Kin I go home now?" Trouble pleaded. Sketch lifted him into his arms, but didn't dare to loosen his grip on his suspenders. Jade's forehead was still furrowed as the bunch began to walk off. "I guess we should be gettin' home. We'll see ya lata." Angel said, turning back towards Manhattan. Sketch nodded and waved. "We'll be seein' ya!" He said. "Tell Taps an' Ice hey!" Marbles said, as he and his brothers waved. Angel and Sunshine nodded and walked back to Manhattan.
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Picks, Pockets, and Cowboy Higgins sat in the sun under the Greeley statue talking to a few other newsies who stopped by for a chat. Cowboy pulled his cowboy hat closer to his head as his brothers chattered. He was softer spoken than his brothers. It wasn't his fault. He just didn't like to talk constantly. "Well I'll be seein' ya den. Where you sellin' temorra?" Picks asked. The boy shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe on da corner of Broadway. I dunno. It all depends, but I gotta git goin' Higgins. See ya!" The boy said, walking off. "Yeah see ya North. Hey Pockets, you wanna go git sometin' at Tibbys?" Picks asked, turning to his brother with his chocolate brown eyes. Pockets frowned and crossed his arms. "I dunno. I don't really wanna do anytin'. I want some excitement." He said. "Please don't say dat." Cowboy muttered.
His twin brothers looked at him sharply. "Why da heck not Cowboy? It's borin' 'round here." Pockets said, turning his liquid blue eyes to his brother. Cowboy shrugged. "It's jest wheneva one of ya's says dat, sometin' happens. Sometimes good an' sometimes bad. Most always bad dough." Cowboy explained. "Hey dat ain't fair! It ain't always bad!" Picks protested. "Most times." Cowboy retorted. Picks began to protest, but Pockets smacked him. "He does got a point." He said. Picks rolled his eyes. "Yer jest no fun Cowboy." Cowboy shrugged. It wasn't anything personal. He just didn't like his brothers' ideas of fun. "Aw, leave Cowboy alone Picks." Pockets protested. "Pockets! Picks! Cowboy! Don't move!" The three boys turned slowly to face their younger sisters as Sunshine and Angel ran up. Cowboy turned to Picks. "See what did I tell ya? Da goils is gonna say dat sometin' cataclysmic happened an' we're gonna git right in da middle of it, jest like always." He commented. "Aw dry up Cowboy. Whats da problem Angel?" Picks retorted, turning to his sisters.
"Somebody boined down one of Osca Delancy's hidin' places in Brooklyn!" Angel burst out. The three boys jumped to their feet. "What? Who done it?" Picks exploded. "Dunno. Some kids Jade said." Angel answered. Sunshine walked over to Cowboy and put her arm around him protectively. Only she knew how much her brother still feared Oscar Delancy. He had shot Jack Kelly right in front of him when he was only a child and he still felt responsible for the coin sized scars on his idol's shoulder and chest. "Anybody get hoit?" Pockets asked. Angel shook her head. "Nope. It's abandoned now. You know dat. Da question is, what are we gonna do 'bout it?" Angel asked.
"Nothin'." The siblings turned to face their brother Cowboy's pale face. "It ain't our business. Let whoeva done it deal wit' demselves an' we'll take care of ourselves." Angel pouted. "C'mon Cowboy, we gotta do sometin'." Cowboy wriggled out of Sunshine's grasp and walked over to his sister slowly. "We ain't gonna do nothin' Angel. It ain't even our district. Let Brooklyn handle it. You got dat?" He asked slowly, but firmly. Angel glared at him, but said no more. His siblings looked at him solemnly, heeding his words as he walked off, Sunshine following him. Even though he was younger than Picks and Pockets, they still listened to him when he meant things. He rarely spoke out, but when he did, he got all of his siblings' attention. All of them. And they heeded his words.
"Hey Cowboy. You okay?" Sunshine asked, following Cowboy's slumped form. He turned around to face her and Sunshine's forehead furrowed as she took in his tired form. "Yeah I'm okay Sunny. You kin go on home if ya want." He said quietly. She shook her head and placed her hand in his as they walked on. Cowboy sighed and gripped his sister's hand. They had always been close. They felt the same and acted the same. Both were dreamy and soft-spoken, not speaking their minds unless they felt it was completely necessary. They were kindred spirits. "I know how ya feel 'bout Osca Cowboy, but ya shouldn't let him haunt ya like dis." Sunshine said quietly.
Cowboy dropped his head. "I know. But, I cain't help it." He murmured. Sunshine nodded. "I know. But Cowboy, dere ain't nothin' ta be afraid of. He's been gone fer ages. He ain't neva come back." She said calmly. "I know, but dis feelin' in da back of my head says dat he's jest around da corner wit' his gun. His kid's dere too. Both of 'em, waitin', watchin'. I cain't help it Sunny." He murmured. "Look Cowboy, if dey was gonna stalk anybody, anybody at all it would be Grabs. Afta all he was da one dat wrecked his plans, not you. It'll be okay. Jest let it rest." Sunshine said urgently. Cowboy turned to her, his brown eyes tired. "I cain't help it." He whispered softly.
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The children wandered through Brooklyn calling and yelling the younger Conlon's name. There was no answer to their calls. They really didn't expect one. Trouble Conlon loved to play what he called, 'hidin' an' seekin''. Only it wasn't in a restriscted area. All of New York was his playground. The little imp was well-known among the nearest districts to Brooklyn. Elderly men sitting around a boxing ring would laugh and give him a pretzel before he dashed off again. Then when his siblings came around, the same men would tell them where they saw him run off to.
Jade frowned as she called her brother's name again. "C'mon. Let's try dis way." She said, turning back to downtown Brooklyn. "Jade are ya crazy? Whaddya doin'? Trouble probably hightailed it fer Manhattan. Da UDDA way." Sketch insisted. "I dunno, it's weird. I gots a funny feelin' dat he's down here somewheres." She said, walking away insistantly. Sketch sighed and threw his hands in the air, motioning to his younger brothers and winking at Angel and Sunshine. The younger boys' eyes widened as they saw the smoke from the fire in the building rise up in front of them. "Whoa!! Who done dat?" Flames muttered. "Obviously some bad people." Mouse said quietly. "You got dat right Mouse. Sheesh. Why would dey wanna boin dis ol' dump?" Marbles murmured. "I dunno. But I have a feelin' dat our culprit's around here somewhere's. Hey! Listen." Jade cocked her head and Sketch frowned. Amidst the hubub surrounding the fire, a tinny voice came to their ears. "Fire! Fire! Loverly fire! Wow it's big! I wonda if it goes ta heaven? Oh well! Fire! Fire! Loverly fire!" Jade rolled her eyes as she heard the sing-song voice and the group made their way towards the sound.
Seated in the grass not far away from the burning building was a little boy, kicking his feet contentedly, one hand planted in the grass, the other clutching some dandilions in his sweaty, chubby palm. He turned his blonde head as the group approached and he jumped up with a grin. "Jade! You win hidin' an' seekin'! Lets play again! I'm da hida!" He made a move to dash off again, but Sketch caught him by the seat of his pants and pulled him back by his suspenders, lifting him up in the air so that Jade could see him face to face. "Listen ta me Trouble. Don't, eva, do dis, again! You undastan' me? Yer too little ta be runnin' off! 'Specially at fires! Fire kin hoit ya bad! You undastan'?" Trouble's small forehead furrowed, then he grinned. "Oh I wouldn't have gotten hoit! Da boys made sure dat I stayed outta da way while dey made it. It was neat! Jade kin we have a fire at our house sometime? Do ya tink dat Papa would make one?" Jade's back straightened. "No I don't tink dat Papa would make one Trouble." She said, her voice low and obviously not comprehending the question.
"Trouble, what boys?" Sketch asked, twirling his brother on his suspenders to face him. "I dunno! Da boys dat made dat fire! One of 'em was tall an' he had black hairs an' I dunno what color his eyes was, but dey looked black too, an' dere was a whole bunches off boys. Kin I go home now?" Trouble pleaded. Sketch lifted him into his arms, but didn't dare to loosen his grip on his suspenders. Jade's forehead was still furrowed as the bunch began to walk off. "I guess we should be gettin' home. We'll see ya lata." Angel said, turning back towards Manhattan. Sketch nodded and waved. "We'll be seein' ya!" He said. "Tell Taps an' Ice hey!" Marbles said, as he and his brothers waved. Angel and Sunshine nodded and walked back to Manhattan.
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Picks, Pockets, and Cowboy Higgins sat in the sun under the Greeley statue talking to a few other newsies who stopped by for a chat. Cowboy pulled his cowboy hat closer to his head as his brothers chattered. He was softer spoken than his brothers. It wasn't his fault. He just didn't like to talk constantly. "Well I'll be seein' ya den. Where you sellin' temorra?" Picks asked. The boy shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe on da corner of Broadway. I dunno. It all depends, but I gotta git goin' Higgins. See ya!" The boy said, walking off. "Yeah see ya North. Hey Pockets, you wanna go git sometin' at Tibbys?" Picks asked, turning to his brother with his chocolate brown eyes. Pockets frowned and crossed his arms. "I dunno. I don't really wanna do anytin'. I want some excitement." He said. "Please don't say dat." Cowboy muttered.
His twin brothers looked at him sharply. "Why da heck not Cowboy? It's borin' 'round here." Pockets said, turning his liquid blue eyes to his brother. Cowboy shrugged. "It's jest wheneva one of ya's says dat, sometin' happens. Sometimes good an' sometimes bad. Most always bad dough." Cowboy explained. "Hey dat ain't fair! It ain't always bad!" Picks protested. "Most times." Cowboy retorted. Picks began to protest, but Pockets smacked him. "He does got a point." He said. Picks rolled his eyes. "Yer jest no fun Cowboy." Cowboy shrugged. It wasn't anything personal. He just didn't like his brothers' ideas of fun. "Aw, leave Cowboy alone Picks." Pockets protested. "Pockets! Picks! Cowboy! Don't move!" The three boys turned slowly to face their younger sisters as Sunshine and Angel ran up. Cowboy turned to Picks. "See what did I tell ya? Da goils is gonna say dat sometin' cataclysmic happened an' we're gonna git right in da middle of it, jest like always." He commented. "Aw dry up Cowboy. Whats da problem Angel?" Picks retorted, turning to his sisters.
"Somebody boined down one of Osca Delancy's hidin' places in Brooklyn!" Angel burst out. The three boys jumped to their feet. "What? Who done it?" Picks exploded. "Dunno. Some kids Jade said." Angel answered. Sunshine walked over to Cowboy and put her arm around him protectively. Only she knew how much her brother still feared Oscar Delancy. He had shot Jack Kelly right in front of him when he was only a child and he still felt responsible for the coin sized scars on his idol's shoulder and chest. "Anybody get hoit?" Pockets asked. Angel shook her head. "Nope. It's abandoned now. You know dat. Da question is, what are we gonna do 'bout it?" Angel asked.
"Nothin'." The siblings turned to face their brother Cowboy's pale face. "It ain't our business. Let whoeva done it deal wit' demselves an' we'll take care of ourselves." Angel pouted. "C'mon Cowboy, we gotta do sometin'." Cowboy wriggled out of Sunshine's grasp and walked over to his sister slowly. "We ain't gonna do nothin' Angel. It ain't even our district. Let Brooklyn handle it. You got dat?" He asked slowly, but firmly. Angel glared at him, but said no more. His siblings looked at him solemnly, heeding his words as he walked off, Sunshine following him. Even though he was younger than Picks and Pockets, they still listened to him when he meant things. He rarely spoke out, but when he did, he got all of his siblings' attention. All of them. And they heeded his words.
"Hey Cowboy. You okay?" Sunshine asked, following Cowboy's slumped form. He turned around to face her and Sunshine's forehead furrowed as she took in his tired form. "Yeah I'm okay Sunny. You kin go on home if ya want." He said quietly. She shook her head and placed her hand in his as they walked on. Cowboy sighed and gripped his sister's hand. They had always been close. They felt the same and acted the same. Both were dreamy and soft-spoken, not speaking their minds unless they felt it was completely necessary. They were kindred spirits. "I know how ya feel 'bout Osca Cowboy, but ya shouldn't let him haunt ya like dis." Sunshine said quietly.
Cowboy dropped his head. "I know. But, I cain't help it." He murmured. Sunshine nodded. "I know. But Cowboy, dere ain't nothin' ta be afraid of. He's been gone fer ages. He ain't neva come back." She said calmly. "I know, but dis feelin' in da back of my head says dat he's jest around da corner wit' his gun. His kid's dere too. Both of 'em, waitin', watchin'. I cain't help it Sunny." He murmured. "Look Cowboy, if dey was gonna stalk anybody, anybody at all it would be Grabs. Afta all he was da one dat wrecked his plans, not you. It'll be okay. Jest let it rest." Sunshine said urgently. Cowboy turned to her, his brown eyes tired. "I cain't help it." He whispered softly.
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