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He crept around the corner, pushing his blonde hair out of his blue eyes. He frowned and crouched on the ground, thinking. "Sometin' ain't right." He whispered to himself. But as he prepared to go farther, he jumped at the sound of a second voice. "Whatcha doin' Taps? Huh?" He groaned and turned around. She stood in the entrance of the alleyway, her hands dirty from the ink of the papers, her blue eyes sparkling. "Nothin' Ice! Now go 'way." He said, turning away from her. Ice frowned and crept up to where he was. "Are ya huntin' robbers like Grabs did when HE was little?" She whispered. Taps rolled his eyes and turned back to her. "No. I'm jest lookin' around okay. Nothin' ta worry 'bout." He said. He was about to walk away from her, but her voice stopped him. "But jest a minute ago you said dat sometin' wasn't right." He turned back to her. "How long was you dere?" He demanded. She furrowed her forehead and placed her tiny grubby finger to her face. "Umm, da whole time! I was followin' ya!" She said happily.
Taps rolled his eyes. "Figures." He muttered. "I wanna go wit' ya Taps! Where ya goin'? Is ya goin' ta Brooklyn? It shore looks like it cuz da Brooklyn Bridge is jest up da road. Is you gonna go see Spot? If so I wanna go. I," Taps placed his hand over his little sister's mouth. "Look Ice, if yer gonna come, ya gotta keep quiet!" He took his hand off of her mouth and she sighed dismally. "Taps, you know dat I don't like bein' quiet." She mourned. "Well if yer comin' ya gotta keep yer trap shut. Undastan'?" He asked. She sighed and nodded. "Okay. Den lets go." He stood up and walked out in the open towards the Brooklyn Bridge. "Is ya goin' ta Brooklyn?" Ice asked quietly. Taps groaned and turned around. She threw her hands out in front of her. "What? I jest asked! If I'm goin' I might as well know where!" She protested, pushing a blonde curl out of her face.
"If ya MUST know, yes, I'm goin' ta Brooklyn." Taps said as he walked off. Ice ran to catch up with him and took her hand in his. "Why?" She asked. " 'Cause I have a feelin' dat sometin's goin' on dere. It's been quiet. Too quiet." He explained. "Oh. You know what Taps?" Ice asked. "I know dat you ain't doin' a good job at bein' quiet." He said, looking down at her. She looked at him sadly and he sighed and smiled. "Well I tink dat yer da neatest big brudder dat dere eva was! I don't know nobody who kin sense stuff like you can! Maybe Spot Conlon, but nobody else Taps! Yer da greatest!" She said proudly, looking up into her big brother's face. He smiled and stifled a pleased chuckle. "Well dats good Ice. Dats real good. Ya need ta woik on keepin' quiet dough." He said with a smile. Ice placed her hand over her mouth. "I won't say anudda woid till we git dere." She vowed. This time Taps did laugh. "Yeah right." He said. "I will!" She protested. "Uh-huh, sure Ice." He laughed as she protested further.
Taps cocked his head slightly, then whirled around and pulled Ice off to the side of the road. She looked at him questioningly, but her little mouth became o-shaped as a fire carriage whizzed past them. Taps grabbed his little sister's hand and jerked her along as they followed the carriage. It stopped in front of the burning building in downtown Brooklyn. There was a crowd of people around, watching with wide eyes. Taps kept his firm grip on Ice's hand and made his way to the front. The crowds cheered as the firemen dropped water on the flames, but groaned as the flames grew higher. "Look at it Taps! It's awful! Who did dat?" Ice asked, tugging on her brother's hand. He shook his head. "I got no idea Ice." He murmured. "Hey Slingshot!" Taps turned around to face a smiling red-haired youth. His name was Art, a well known figure around Brooklyn. The twenty-five year old was still working around Brooklyn, not as a Newsie as he had been formerly as a boy, but as a blacksmith. His father was Red, Spot Conlon's companion when he had been the leader of Brooklyn. Red and Spot still remained close and Art remained close to the Higgins family, having been essential in part of Grabs' plot to bring down Oscar Delancy.
Taps grinned at his nick-name. Spot had given it to him when he was only a baby, convinced that he would teach him all there was to know about his preferred weapon. Taps had lived up to Spot's expectations and he was not known as Taps in Brooklyn. In Brooklyn he was known as Slingshot. "Okay. Dis is a mess here huh?" He said. "Yeah it is. Don't know why anyone would wanna boin down dat wreck dough. Not like it's got any importance to da city or nothin'." Art said, after patting Ice on the head. "I know. It's strange. I jest thought dat sometin' was goin' on teday an' look here whats happenin'." Taps said, pointing to the fire consumed building. "Taps kin feel stuff in da air when tings happen Art! Kin you do dat? Kin Spot Conlon do dat? I cain't do dat. Kin yer Papa do dat Art?" Ice babbled. Art grinned and hoisted the little girl in his arms. "Well I cain't say dat I kin Ice. Yer brudda's special ain't he?" Art asked, winking at Taps. "He shore is Art! An' he's MY brudda!" She said proudly.
"I guess we best be gittin' home Art. Mama'll want us ta be home at a suitable hour. She don't like me an' Ice deliverin' da evenin' edition." Taps said. Art smiled and placed Ice on the ground after delivering a small kiss on her rosy cheek. "Okay. You git goin' den. Take care Slingshot!" Art said, making his way out of the crowds. Taps sighed and took Ice's hand, but not after taking one final glance at the burning building and frowning. "Why would someone wanna boin down dat ol' wreck?" He muttered to himself as he made his way out of the crowds.
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He crept around the corner, pushing his blonde hair out of his blue eyes. He frowned and crouched on the ground, thinking. "Sometin' ain't right." He whispered to himself. But as he prepared to go farther, he jumped at the sound of a second voice. "Whatcha doin' Taps? Huh?" He groaned and turned around. She stood in the entrance of the alleyway, her hands dirty from the ink of the papers, her blue eyes sparkling. "Nothin' Ice! Now go 'way." He said, turning away from her. Ice frowned and crept up to where he was. "Are ya huntin' robbers like Grabs did when HE was little?" She whispered. Taps rolled his eyes and turned back to her. "No. I'm jest lookin' around okay. Nothin' ta worry 'bout." He said. He was about to walk away from her, but her voice stopped him. "But jest a minute ago you said dat sometin' wasn't right." He turned back to her. "How long was you dere?" He demanded. She furrowed her forehead and placed her tiny grubby finger to her face. "Umm, da whole time! I was followin' ya!" She said happily.
Taps rolled his eyes. "Figures." He muttered. "I wanna go wit' ya Taps! Where ya goin'? Is ya goin' ta Brooklyn? It shore looks like it cuz da Brooklyn Bridge is jest up da road. Is you gonna go see Spot? If so I wanna go. I," Taps placed his hand over his little sister's mouth. "Look Ice, if yer gonna come, ya gotta keep quiet!" He took his hand off of her mouth and she sighed dismally. "Taps, you know dat I don't like bein' quiet." She mourned. "Well if yer comin' ya gotta keep yer trap shut. Undastan'?" He asked. She sighed and nodded. "Okay. Den lets go." He stood up and walked out in the open towards the Brooklyn Bridge. "Is ya goin' ta Brooklyn?" Ice asked quietly. Taps groaned and turned around. She threw her hands out in front of her. "What? I jest asked! If I'm goin' I might as well know where!" She protested, pushing a blonde curl out of her face.
"If ya MUST know, yes, I'm goin' ta Brooklyn." Taps said as he walked off. Ice ran to catch up with him and took her hand in his. "Why?" She asked. " 'Cause I have a feelin' dat sometin's goin' on dere. It's been quiet. Too quiet." He explained. "Oh. You know what Taps?" Ice asked. "I know dat you ain't doin' a good job at bein' quiet." He said, looking down at her. She looked at him sadly and he sighed and smiled. "Well I tink dat yer da neatest big brudder dat dere eva was! I don't know nobody who kin sense stuff like you can! Maybe Spot Conlon, but nobody else Taps! Yer da greatest!" She said proudly, looking up into her big brother's face. He smiled and stifled a pleased chuckle. "Well dats good Ice. Dats real good. Ya need ta woik on keepin' quiet dough." He said with a smile. Ice placed her hand over her mouth. "I won't say anudda woid till we git dere." She vowed. This time Taps did laugh. "Yeah right." He said. "I will!" She protested. "Uh-huh, sure Ice." He laughed as she protested further.
Taps cocked his head slightly, then whirled around and pulled Ice off to the side of the road. She looked at him questioningly, but her little mouth became o-shaped as a fire carriage whizzed past them. Taps grabbed his little sister's hand and jerked her along as they followed the carriage. It stopped in front of the burning building in downtown Brooklyn. There was a crowd of people around, watching with wide eyes. Taps kept his firm grip on Ice's hand and made his way to the front. The crowds cheered as the firemen dropped water on the flames, but groaned as the flames grew higher. "Look at it Taps! It's awful! Who did dat?" Ice asked, tugging on her brother's hand. He shook his head. "I got no idea Ice." He murmured. "Hey Slingshot!" Taps turned around to face a smiling red-haired youth. His name was Art, a well known figure around Brooklyn. The twenty-five year old was still working around Brooklyn, not as a Newsie as he had been formerly as a boy, but as a blacksmith. His father was Red, Spot Conlon's companion when he had been the leader of Brooklyn. Red and Spot still remained close and Art remained close to the Higgins family, having been essential in part of Grabs' plot to bring down Oscar Delancy.
Taps grinned at his nick-name. Spot had given it to him when he was only a baby, convinced that he would teach him all there was to know about his preferred weapon. Taps had lived up to Spot's expectations and he was not known as Taps in Brooklyn. In Brooklyn he was known as Slingshot. "Okay. Dis is a mess here huh?" He said. "Yeah it is. Don't know why anyone would wanna boin down dat wreck dough. Not like it's got any importance to da city or nothin'." Art said, after patting Ice on the head. "I know. It's strange. I jest thought dat sometin' was goin' on teday an' look here whats happenin'." Taps said, pointing to the fire consumed building. "Taps kin feel stuff in da air when tings happen Art! Kin you do dat? Kin Spot Conlon do dat? I cain't do dat. Kin yer Papa do dat Art?" Ice babbled. Art grinned and hoisted the little girl in his arms. "Well I cain't say dat I kin Ice. Yer brudda's special ain't he?" Art asked, winking at Taps. "He shore is Art! An' he's MY brudda!" She said proudly.
"I guess we best be gittin' home Art. Mama'll want us ta be home at a suitable hour. She don't like me an' Ice deliverin' da evenin' edition." Taps said. Art smiled and placed Ice on the ground after delivering a small kiss on her rosy cheek. "Okay. You git goin' den. Take care Slingshot!" Art said, making his way out of the crowds. Taps sighed and took Ice's hand, but not after taking one final glance at the burning building and frowning. "Why would someone wanna boin down dat ol' wreck?" He muttered to himself as he made his way out of the crowds.
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