DISCLAIMER: These characters do NOT belong to me unfortunately. I tried to kidnap
them from Disney and was unsuccessful. Go figure. However, Runner and Mallory are
MINE, and so is Josephine, Aunt Patricia, and Daisy! Muahahaha! So take that, Mickey!!

A.N. YaaaY!!! *swims in the pool of reviews* You goils is the GreATesT! I love
you all, I feel so appreciated, lol! But seriously, I am so glad you all are
interested in this story and are enjoying it. Thanks so much for the REVIEWS!!!
WARNING!!! this is a SHORT CHAPTER, lol!!! Sorry! There was originally going to
be a Race/Mallory scene, but I had the most extreme case of Writer's Block and had
no idea how to go about describing everything. Ay, forgive me!! : (



*b133ding p03t: Pish posh! Every writer has their own style. I didn't always write
like this. It took a lot of time and practice. I'm sure that in time, both you and I,
along with hundreds of other authors, will be the almighty Queens of the writing
world!!! Muahaha! Thanks for the review, hope ya like this chappie! : )


*SportyChik425: Heya Teacher! LoL, just kidding! I say that a lot too. Well, my dear,
you and I think alike. This chapter is in part dedicated to Jack's attempts at wooing
Mallory, lol. Awww, ya like Runner's character? YaaY! Heehee, he happens to be my
favorite actually. Glad you're enjoying it so far! Thanks for reviewing!


*braces: Eeeewww! Girls melting in the newsies' arms, yuck yuck! LoL! It's fun sometimes
but since nowadays everyone seems to dread Mary-Sue's, I made Mallory a toughie. You
don't like Runner? LoL! Don't worry, it's just the old case of sibling rivalry. : )
Thank ya for those reviews! Have fun reading chapter three!


*skittles: Ooo, original plots kick booty! w00t w00t! Thanks for the review! Yea,
the newsies section is getting old, except for a few spicy stories. : ( Too many
sappy romances, lol. Anywho, enjoy this next chapter and thanks for the support!


*snuggles: This Spot-look-alike of yours is intriguing me!!! What's his name?! How
old is he?! Please spill the details!! Hahaha, church revivals are great places to
meet Hot, Good guys...unless of course you happen to meet someone like Runner, lol.
Heehee, staring contest, ay? Go snuggles! Get that Spotty boy and take him home!
Take him home and...read the bible together? *snickers* Keep me up to date with him!
LoL, thanks for the reviews anyways. Here's another chappie!


*Shortie: Youse a doll! No, I don't want reviews, I just ramble on at the end of each
chapter for the fun of it, LoL! : ) Ahh, you love Runner?!!? *high five, sister!* He
is my absolute favorite character in all my fanfics, lol! Although, in this story,
he's a bit more naughty than usual. Heehee, gotta love the kid. Yes, the toughness
is a Conlon thing. Ah, Mallory's speech, lol. Sorry about that; no hitting her on the
head! *snickers* I prefer the Newsie lingo, though. Hahaha. It's cuter. And as for
Spot's family, well you've raised an excellent question, my dear! I'll sort out that
underlying story later on. Ah, and don't think Race will give up so easily! Heehee, he's
a tough cookie as well. Anyhow, thanks for the reviews, and keep 'em coming!





Just A Little Bet




~*~*~*~*~ "Such a breathtaking work of art, no? I feel as if the artist is creating

a trap in which he's hoping my feelings will be caught and intertwined with the lives

of those who've suffered the drudgery of war!"




Mallory arched an eyebrow. All she saw in the gold-framed oil painting was a series of

random blotches in a variety of colors, but she supposed the young teacher had to say

something depthful in order to catch her students' attention. The girl smiled to herself

and continued walking through the art exhibits a local gallery had put on for a

three-day event honoring those who had left quite an impact on the timeline of history.

She had read about the memorial in yesterday's paper, and always awed by the arts, had

decided to spend her afternoon lost in the world of passions and desires frozen for

all of time onto the simple exterior of a canvas.




As she entered an area of the gallery dedicated to the history of New Mexico, the

figure of a tall young man caught her attention. Almost instantly, she recognized

him as one of the newsboys Spot had introduced her to and she was almost excited by

the opportunity to further talk to him. She walked to his side and in the utmost

casuality said, "Why Jack! I did not expect to see you here!"




Jack's head swifty turned, for the Manhattan newsie had first thought that one from

his own borough had caught their leader admiring works of art, but when he found himself

looking into Mallory's warm eyes, he loosened up and smiled. "Heya! Actually, I'se just

came tah see the pictures of New Mexico. It's a nice place, huh?"




"Extremely beautiful," she replied, as she looked at the row of paintings hung onto the

wall before them. A particular one in black and white stood out among the rest. It was

a drawing of a young rancher holding a rifle at his side. "Who is that?"




"Oh, that's Billy the Kid. Youse ever hoid of 'im?" The girl shook her head, so he

continued. "He was one of the most famous killahs in New Mexico; killed twenty-one

supposedly, one for every year of 'is life. Went around stealin' cattle and shootin'

deputies. Crazy enough, most of the people was in love wid the Kid. They's always

welcomed him into town with outstretched arms."




Mallory shook her head. "People never cease to amaze me."




"Ah, the state's full of freeborns," Jack laughed. "That's mostly why I'se always

wanted tah go tah Santa Fe. It's peacefull and the lands stretch all the way tah the

horizon no mattah where youse is." He sighed and stared at the picture of Billy the

Kid, jealous of the adventure the deceased youth had lived out in his life.




"You speak with much elegance, Jack! You practically give me a historical summary

of an ordinary New Mexican cowhand, and then you go on about the wonders of that

western acreage. You should have been born into a higher class! You have much to give

to the world!"




Jack narrowed his eyes at the comment. He did not neccessarily appreciate people thinking

as highly as Mallory did. "I guess it aint mattah what class I'se born into," he said,

trying to control his offenses. "Life's basically the same for all of us. We'se each

given problems and circumstances; it's what we'se do about it that counts. Shoah, it'd

be nice tah party wid the muckety-mucks a few days from time tah time, but when I'se

look around me, I'm thankful tah be where I is. There's people even less fortunate than

me, Mallory. Me class is the least of me worries."




An uncomfortable silence fell upon the two and the girl shifted her weight from one

foot to the other as she thought of how to respond to that. "Forgive me," she began.

"I suppose I always believed that one's class determined not only wealth but also

willpower and intelligence. But you have proven me wrong, Jack, and I thank you for the

lesson." She laughed lightly and looked away. "We all need to be humbled once in a

while."




"Aww, don't worry about it! Even we newsies gots our prideful days. Of coise, for

Spot Conlon, it's more like prideful years...but that's another story." They enjoyed

a nice laugh and then Jack turned to face her. "So, goil, how's life treatin' ya?"




"Pretty well, I suppose. I have my ups, I have my downs. My father went to see his

doctor this morning and I can only pray that his sickness has not worsened. He has

bronchitis, mind you, and is awfully short of breath when his lungs begin working

against him. The medicine he uses aids him somewhat, but it is not at all as powerful

as the more expensive drugs. Unfortunately, we can not afford anything of the sort.

We can barely pay for the generic brands! He is endlessly telling me he has everything

under control, but I worry about him. On the bright side, I have recently befriended

three amicable young men..." She looked up at Jack and smiled.




"And which of the three is ya favorite so far?" Jack asked her slyly.




She playfully hit his arm and imitated someone deep in thought. "You raise an excellent

question, Jack, but I have not a worthy answer to offer it. You see, these three boys

are unique each in their own way and I could not possibly decide between them!"




'That might be a problem,' Jack thought to himself with a knowing grin. 'But how can

I set meself apart from those other bums?' Then it hit him. The girl was obviously close

with her father...and her father was currently ill...what if Jack promised the man's

health? "Mallory, about ya dad, what if I'se told me boys back at the lodgin' house

about the situation and we'se raised enough money tah help youse out?"




Mallory immediately refused. "No, no, no! I do not want to rob your friends of their

money! They earned that money in hard labor and the last thing I want is for them to

have to give it away to a pair of middle-class folk who do not know how to budget!"




"Don't take it so hard on yaself, it's no big deal! Even aristocrats find themselves

at the end of their ropes one day!" He rested his hands on her shoulders and looked

at her hard and long. "Please, Mallory. Let us help youse."




"But it is not fair...."




Jack moved his hands to the girl's cheeks and held her face tightly. "And it aint fair

for ya dad tah be sufferin' without that medicine when youse gots a good friend who'd

be willin' tah raise some money."




She sighed, slowly relenting. She could not believe he was suggesting such a thing, and

felt ashamed at having to agree with the idea. After all, wasn't she the one who was

supposed to be donating to charities for boys and girls like the newsies? Wasn't she the

one who was supposed to be helping them in their time of need? "I am so embarassed by it

all. I could not possibly....."




Jack put a finger to her lips and grinned. "That's what friends is for, Mallory." And

having finally silenced her on the matter, they were able to enjoy walking through

the gallery together and sharing their feelings on art.




* * * * *





That night, the Brooklyn lodging house was hosting a late night poker game where card

players from all over New York gathered to compete with their fellow newsie and, if luck

was shining on them, bring home a larger amount of cash than that with which they had

come. Spot, Jack, and Race sat at a secluded table in the far back, watching a heated

match between the best player from Queens and his new rival, a Staten Island prodigy.

Between the competitors was a mound of cash that probably summed up to over fifteen

dollars and the boys crowded around the table could not take their eyes off that

grand prize money.




"Who d'ya think's gunna win?" Race asked through a cloud of smoke.




Spot shook his head. "It's hard tah tell. Flame's a mastah wid cards, but that Staten

kid looks like he's about tah pull the biggest surprise."




A few moments later, the cards had been revealed and Spot's predictions fulfilled.

Jack commended him. "Ya always know who's gunna take home the cash, eh Conlon?"




"Actually, ya boy Specs was standin' behind the kid," the Brooklyn leader confessed.

"And I could see a royal flush in the reflection of his lens. Unfortunately, Flame

aint got enough sense tah make use of 'is surroundings." The three of them laughed and

scanned the lodging house for anything else to catch their interest.




Race was the first to speak again. "So anyways, I'se took Mallory out for dinnah

tonight. Ya know what she said about it? That it was 'romantic'. How d'ya like that,

huh? It looks like this lil' bet is favorin' me, fellahs."




"Well, I'se was in the museum wid her earlier and she said some shit about me sounding

intelligent or whatever. When ya think about it, Race, most goils go for the smart ones

these days."




"Bull! What if she's one of those traditional types that want tah marry some damn knight

in shinin' armor who'll sweep 'em off their feet?"




Jack rolled his eyes and then noticed that Spot had not said a single thing about his

attempts with Mallory. "Heya, Spot, where have youse gotten wid the goil?"




The Brooklyn leader smirked. "Well, kids, I'se don't want ya'll to lose so early in the

game so I'se figured I'd wait a few days and then enter the picture, ya know?"




"Oh, how modest," Race said with an exaggerated and sarcastic smile.




"Besides, I'se had other crap tah deal wid, like that idiotic bastard also known as me

cousin. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was a potential candidate for some

insane asylum! The kid is the devil incarnate, I swear!"




Jack laughed. "How's he doing? I'se haven't seen Runner in months!"




"Be glad ya haven't!" said Spot.




"There's one in every family," Race offered. "But don't let family business get in the

way of our lil' bet, huh?"




Spot ran his fingers through his hair and the corners of his mouth upturned into a

mischevious grin. "Youse aint gotta worry about that one bit."




* * * * *




Ah, the end of yet another chapter! You know what that means, my dear readers. *Game
show music blares though the air* It's that time again! w00t w00t! Here's your host...
ALEEEEEEEEEX TREBEK!!! *audience anxiously awaits Alex to appear....* Alright, so
he wasn't able to make it to this edition, but I know that won't stop you from playing,
right? *silence* RiGHT!?? REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!! I love REVIEWS! Me love
REVIEWS!!! My muses are now taking suggestions if you have any!!! Want to see more of
something?, tell 'em! Want to see less of something?, tell 'em!!! DATES with Spot, Jack,
Race, or heck, even Runner for those who dare, are now being given away at an
expeditious rate! Reserve your date NOW! WOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Love ya all!