(Author's Notes-I wanted to thank my reviewers-Blondy Bear, Rae Kelly, Panda Butt , and baby309blue --. Here's a chocolate chip cookie for you all!)




Jack Kelly went over to the window for the third time in the past ten minutes. He wrung his hands together nervously, but trying not to let it show. "Jack. Cowboy. Come back ovah heah an sit down. Whaddaya tink Spot'll say when he fin's out dat you been wachin fer im?" Racetrack took a cigar out of a cup be side his bed and put it into his mouth. "Sides'," he started, barley understandable, "We's startin apokah game an we needs someone dat's got moah money dan da res' of us do."

"Play wid Davey. E was jus in da oddah room. I tink I jus wanna take a liddle nap, or sumtin."

"Jack. Are you suah you'se alight?"

"Yeah, I'm suah, What, you tink I'se lyin to ya's?"

"Cowboy, Davey left ovah an houah ago. You'se was stanin righ' theah when he said bye an den he says to send a runnah if Spot got back tonight. Remembah?"

"He did? You suah?"

"Go take a nap, Jack. If you'se is dat worried bout Spot, Me'n Mush an' mebbe anuddah one a da boys'll go look fer im. He prolly won' be too happy we's looking, though, so I'se'll tell im dat it ws youah idea.

"Yeah, dat soun's good ta me."

"An den I'll bring im back heah, unless he want's to go ta Medda's."

"Yeah, alight, Race. Go ahead." Jack was back to staring out the grimy window.

Race took the cigar out of his mouth and cocked his head. "An' den maybe Ill jus take youah money out from undah you'se pillow an' spen' it at da races tomorrah."

"Yeah." Racetrack shook his head and put the cigar back in his mouth. He grabbed Jack's shoulder and pushed him across the room to his bunk. Then he went downstairs and told Kid Blink and Specs to go up and make sure he stayed there. He went to the poker table, a stack of crates nailed together over in the corner behind the stairs, and told all present that they were going out to find Spot. They threw down their cards and stood up. Race looked to see who was there, happy to see that one of them was his best friend, Mush. The rest, Snipeshooter, Fox, Jumper, and Puppy. The first to come over, besides Mush, of course, was Snipeshooter. He had become friends with Spot during the big strike the year before and was one of the few who knew where he had set off to.

Out of the other three, only one of them had talked to Spot before. Fox was the newest runner for the Mannhatten newsies. He was named for his quick thinking, quick running, and dark reddish-brown hair. He stood up and ,in his thick southern accent said, "Hey, I'd be happy to go which ya's." Race motioned to him to come on and then looked at the other two. They knew of Spot, of course, but had never really talked to him. They had both come to New York only two weeks prior. They were brother, both with white-blonde hair and a tall, gangly sort of build. They looked enough alike to be twins, despite their two year difference. The only way that the newsies had to tell them apart for sure was their eyes. Jumper, named for his love of train-jumping, had bright blue eyes. Puppy had big brown eyes, which he used to use when begging food from strangers.

The brothers looked at each other, then stood as one. Jumper, being the older of the two at age fifteen, said in the barely-there Irish accent, "We're with you." Race nodded, then turned on his heel and headed out the door into the balmy April night.

The group headed towards the East Side, which was where Spot's letter had told him to go. 'All di foah a damn non-existent fambly.' Thought Race, as he thought of the look on the face of the usually emotionless-except-for-anger Brooklyn leader. 'But he looked so happy at foist, befoah he got to da end wheah it said she was dyin'.' Race frowned, and handed his cigar to Snipeshooter. "Heah ya go, Snipes. I'll just 'steal anuddah'."

Snipeshooter accepted it happily. He hadn't had one for about a day and a half and the craving were staring to get to him. But he knew that Race was lost in thought, or he would've never given it up. He also knew that he would probably never get another free cigar and wasn't so moralistic (A/N-is that even a word? I dunno, it sounds good.) as to pass up an offer like this. The group of six came to a place in one of the back streets, usually traveled only by vendors, scabbers and that sort. They were joking about Race and Mush's recent cavorting around the tracks, not paying attention to where they were walking, when suddenly Puppy fell face foreward on the sidewalk. Groaning, he rolled over and sat up. Fox knelt down to see what he had tripped over, then held something up to look at it better in the lights coming out of the building behind them, a puzzled expression on his face. He said, "A potato?"

All the boys knelt down to see if that was what it really was. "Why da 'ell is deah a buncha patata's in da street?" Mush said. Fox, green eyes sparkling, threw his potato at Jumper. Jumper threw one back at him and all the boys were soon heavily involved in a potato fight. They were at it for a good five minutes, when Puppy fell again, this time into the street. His shoe came off when he flew backwards off the sidewalk and landed near an old wagon with a busted axle. He limped over, trying to keep his shoe-less foot of the glass-and-god-only-knows-what-else covered streets, and sat down to put it back on. He began to stand up, then froze.

"Pup? Hey, Puppy?" Jumper started. Worried about his little brother. Puppy didn't seem to even notice Jumper's voice and the other's became worried. Race and Mush looked at each other and knew that they were both thinking about Crutchy, one of the nicest newsies they'd ever met. About six months prior, Crutchy had been at his favorite selling spot, the harbor, when a runaway carriage knocked him over. He hit his head on a trunk that was waiting to be loaded onto a ship and had gotten a huge gash. It bled for hours, and the newsies [pooled their money to take him to the doctor. By the time they got there, Crutchy was completely out of it. He didn't answer, didn't focus his eyes on anything, didn't even move on his own, except to shiver. The doctor later told them that that was from the blood loss. When the doctor finished examining him, he had come back out to the waiting room, frowning deeply.

"I'm very sorry boys, but your friend took a very bad fall. I'm not sure he'll be able to pull through." He went on to tell them a little more, but most had faded out of reality. The ones who were still listening were the ones that were too young to really understand, like Davey's brother Les. They didn't understand what the Doctor was saying, and didn't ask him to explain. They boys neglected to sell the next day, instead opting to stay with Crutchy up till the end.

"Puppy?" Mush nearly yelled, voice full of worry. He and Jumper ran over to him, one on each side, and knelt down. He was staring under the wagon, at something on the other side. Both older boys looked, and were frozen just the same. Race and Fox raced over to see what they were seeing, and froze themselves. On the opther side of the wagon was a letter, no longer crisp and white as it was the last time they had seen it, and an unmistakeable black and gold cane, both lying in a puddle of dark red liquid. Blood.














Well? What do you think about this chapter? Good? Awful? Give me your opinion in this lovely little box and I'll give you a cookie (::). See? It's chocolate chip! Sorry about Crutchy, if you liked him and are like, oh, jeez, what a bitch! She killed Crutchy! Well, you're wrong. I didn't do it. The damn trunk did. And then, it ran and hid in the ship and skipped off to Italy, or somewhere like that and was never caught. It was a clear cut case of thump-and-sail. ;)
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