Chapter Nine

Tuesday night, Morris, David, Blink and a crowd of other boys met outside the Journal. Their previous efforts had met with Hearst's resistance, so it was to Hearst that they now took the fight.

The gates opened at eight o'clock, and a elegant carriage exited the gates. The boys, standing in the road, wouldn't let it pass. The driver yelled at them, but they yelled back. The driver seemed ready to run them over when Morris stepped forward and called out, "We're not leaving 'til you talk to us!"

The boys fell silent as the passenger door of the carriage opened and a man stepped out. He was tall and thin, wearing elegant clothes. His hair was neatly combed. His skin was sallow and his face was thin, but his eyes burned bright in his face. Slowly he smiled at the boys, and Morris felt his blood run cold.

Leisurely, the man stepped down from the coach. "You want to speak with me?" he asked, addressing Morris alone. "Then do come inside."

*

William Randolph Hearst always left the Journal building at five o'clock sharp. But with the strike going on and circulation down 67 percent, he had taken to staying later, trying to find ways to end the nuisance that was this strike. It was in his office that the plan to kill the leader had been hatched and it was in his office that his plan to buy the leader off began.

But when he left the office, he hadn't expected to find the leaders right there. The boy in front was tall and thin, with thick black hair and ragged clothes. Fanning out behind him were at least fifteen other boys. They wanted to talk. Hearst allowed himself a smile as he confronted the young man who spoke up.

This would be easier than he thought.

*

Hearst's office was the most beautiful thing Morris had ever seen. It was rich, with thick carpets that he would have loved to lay on and sculptures and paintings that baffled his imagination. He, David, Blink and Mush went up to the office, staring at the ornate decoration around them in unconcealed awe.

Hearst settled himself in the stuffed chair behind his desk and smiled again. "So, boys, what did you want to talk about?"

David moved forward, in front of the others. "The strike is doing damage to your business. Ours too. All we want is for the price to go back to normal and to go back to work."

Hearst looked thoughtful. "I want you to go back to work as well. But you must understand my position. Prices of everything are rising. If I don't raise my prices, how am I to keep the paper at the standard it's in now?"

"That's your business, Mr. Hearst. Ours is to make sure we don't starve or freeze."

Hearst dismissed the argument with a flick of his wrist. "It's the middle of July, I doubt a night in Central Park would kill you."

Morris moved to David's side. "Not in July. But what about in December? Or February? Can you guarantee that war will break out before then, that the president will be shot, that your headlines will be about something newsworthy, not the shortage of peaches in the Manhattan open market?"

Hearst smiled. "I like you. You have… spirit." He lit his cigar and nodded. "Okay, I'll make you a deal." A rush of excitement flowed through Morris and he exchanged a look with David. "I'll pay you… what, say, four hundred dollars… to stop this nonsense."

David shook his head, puzzled. "No, Mr. Hearst, we only want the prices to go down. No payment is-"

"Fine then, four hundred each. Would that be enough to get you off my back and back on the streets where you belong?" Hearst smiled. "Selling papers, of course."

"Are you trying to bribe us?" David asked, eyes wide.

"I'd like to think of it as a deal between gentlemen. Bribe is such an ugly word."

"So's murder," Morris said. "But you did that too, didn't you? You expect us to sell out, give up everything we've worked for. You're a fool."

Hearst rose from his chair. "And you're no longer welcome here. Take your friends and go. But if you change your minds, the deal stands."
Morris shook his head in disgust and stalked out angrily. David and Mush followed him, but Blink hesitated at the door, staring back into the lush office, before hurrying after his friends.

*

They were barely outside the heavy metal gates when a strong hand on Morris' arm spun him around. "Dave-" he started, but David's punch knocked him to the ground before he could say anything else. "What was that for!" he shouted, getting to his feet.

"*I'm* the leader, Morris. Me. You left. You don't get to come waltzing back and just be leader again. It doesn't work like that."

"That deal was a sham! We'd be betraying everyone if we took it!"

"Well, it was up to me to say so! Not you! Not anymore!" Dave looked ready to hit him again. Instead he said, "This was a stupid idea anyway. Who ever thought we could win?" He turned away with a shake of his head and stomped off into the night.

Blink looked torn between Morris and Dave, then followed Dave, calling back, "I'll talk to him. I promise!"

"You okay?" Mush asked, helping him up.

Morris nodded. "Yeah," he murmured, then forced a smile. "They'll be back."