Prolog: Kloppman
The light coming from the oil lamp on my desk is barley enough to light the room after dark. But, sufficed to say, works well enough for me to make out the large pile of forms on my desk.
I remember the looks of disgust on the boy's faces as I asked them to fill out the forms, the even greater looks of annoyance as they were informed they had to turn them in. Well, it's only a safety precaution. I know how badly these boys get banged up. Who do they think calls the doctors, cleans up their blood that's leaked all over the place, watches them while the others are selling? And I just want to make sure that, just in case one of them doesn't survive a tough winter or a tough fight.we'll know what they want us to do.
"Klopp-man!" Jack complains, putting an arm around Tumblers shoulders as his eyes start filling up with tears, "None of us are going to die. You're scaring the little guys."
But I insisted. And now, I am starring at the Last Wills and Testaments of the Newsboys of Manhattan Island.
I wonder what they say.
My eyes shift between the two doors- one that leads to the corridor and the other that leads outside. No ones coming. It wouldn't hurt to look through a few of the papers, would it?
Hmmm..
The light coming from the oil lamp on my desk is barley enough to light the room after dark. But, sufficed to say, works well enough for me to make out the large pile of forms on my desk.
I remember the looks of disgust on the boy's faces as I asked them to fill out the forms, the even greater looks of annoyance as they were informed they had to turn them in. Well, it's only a safety precaution. I know how badly these boys get banged up. Who do they think calls the doctors, cleans up their blood that's leaked all over the place, watches them while the others are selling? And I just want to make sure that, just in case one of them doesn't survive a tough winter or a tough fight.we'll know what they want us to do.
"Klopp-man!" Jack complains, putting an arm around Tumblers shoulders as his eyes start filling up with tears, "None of us are going to die. You're scaring the little guys."
But I insisted. And now, I am starring at the Last Wills and Testaments of the Newsboys of Manhattan Island.
I wonder what they say.
My eyes shift between the two doors- one that leads to the corridor and the other that leads outside. No ones coming. It wouldn't hurt to look through a few of the papers, would it?
Hmmm..
