Chapter 2

            "Ok, who wants ta show Bridget how ta sell?" Spot asked the newsies the next morning, as they stood in line waiting for their papes.  No one answered.  "I SAID who wants ta show 'er how ta sell?"  Spot said harshly.  Once again no one answered.  Spot could feel his blood pressure rising.  "TRACKER!  You'se take 'er dis mornin' and I'll come wit ya." Spot shouted.  Tracker looked at Spot in sheer mortification.          

            "Fifty papes." Tracker said softly as he approached the distribution window.  He got his papers and sat down, looking at the headlines.     

            "Hundred papes." Spot commanded, grabbing his papes form the window. 

            "How many papes should I get?" Bridget asked Spot, calmly.

            "I'd say 'bout twenty since you ain't eveh done dis before." Spot told her. 

            "Fifty papes please." Bridget told the man.

            "I said twenty." Spot glared, his eyes turning gray and cold.

            "Well I'se got fifty." Bridget responded, cockily.

            "Come on Spot, let's go.  I'se gotta sell all of dese taday." Tracker complained. 

            "Bridget, you'se comin' wit me an' Tracker taday, keep up and watch what we'se doin'." Spot ordered.  He and Tracker then started towards the docks with Bridget following blindly behind them.  Once they reached the docks the started shouting out headlines, and showed Bridget how to turn a bad headline into a good one.  

            "So where'd ya come from anyways?" Tracker asked, curious as to how the girl knew how to fight.

            "Somewhere…" She mused.  Tracker gave her an annoyed look, which she ignored. 

            "Where'd ya learn ta fight?" Spot asked.

            "Why?  Afraid I can beat ya?" Bridget smirked.  Tracker nearly fell on the ground laughing.  "What's so funny?"

            "You actually tink dat ya can beat Spot Conlon?  Are ya nuts?" Tracker said in between bursts of laughter.

            "I'se don't lose when I fight." She said tauntingly.

            "Nietheh do I." Spot stated, as he sold his last paper.

            "Damn!  How'd ya sell all dose dat fast?" Bridget said in awe.

            "Talent." Spot remarked.  Tracker once again began to laugh, until Bridget hit him in the arm.

            "OW!" He shrieked in pain.  "What'd ya do dat for?"

            "You'se was getting' on me nerves." Bridget replied nonchalantly.  This time Spot smirked.

            "Sassy, I like dat kid." Spot observed.