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!!
OoOogles! I almost forgot Becca and Snap. They's mine too!! BleH! : ) Ah, the list just
goes on, there's Mr. Carter too of course.



A.N. CORRECTION! In the last chapter, there was a mispelling for one of the Hebrew
words that Runner says. Instead of "lima", the word should be "lama". Just in case
there are any highly critical language-translating reviewers out there! SorrIE!
THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS!!! NO SLACKING!!! KEEP 'EM ROLLIN' IN OR ME AND RUNNER WILL
GO ON STRIKE!!! : ) Kidding! I just love hearing from you guys so much! ENJOY!





*Snuggles: Midsummer Night's Dream. Actually, you are in part responsible for the
inclusion of that play. When you were telling me how Christian Bale is in it, it
reminded me of how my friend said it was a cute movie and how I've been wanting to see
it for a while now. Then, just last week, my school had its annual Shakespeare Contest
and I remembered that last year, I did those same lines (plus 10 more) that Runner used
in the last chapter so it all came together! w00t w00t! Awww, a junioe at your school
died? That's really sad! : ( My deepest sympathy. Not too long ago, a guy that goes to
my school was stabbed to death by another student because, and get how stupid this is,
his girlfriend was cheating on him with the other guy! How stupid is that! I can't
believe anyone would kill another person over jealousy! Alrite, maybe Spot would...lol.
But that's a different story. Heya, I read the Odyssey, well we only had to read parts
of it. The parts we did read were interesting. And then we saw some of the movie. It was
pretty good, but if you have to read the WHOLE ENTIRE book, you once again have my
sympathy. LoL!! Yaaay, I can't wait for my entrance into your new fic. I'm Spot's girl,
I'm Spot's girl!! WOOOOhoooooooo! Hahaha, welperz, enjoy Chapter 6!!!


*Angel: Ahhh, I always get your reviews the day I update and then I can't include you
in these shout-outs!! I've like, jipped you twice already I think. Sorry it's taking
so long for me to edit your story but unexpected things just start popping out of
nowhere and it's driving me insane because there's only spelling errors wrong with it
that I can easily correct and send back to you! *growls at school* This would be so
much easier if I were in college already. : ) You're definitely going to get the edited
version back this weekend, don't worry! I promise on Runner's life! *Runner looks nervous*
And we all know how much I love Runner! : ) Thanks for the reviews!!!


*Lanen: OoOoO, new reviewer! Thanks for reading what I have written so far! I'm glad
you like it. Like I tell all new people, always keep in mind that I am open for
suggestions. If there's somthing you'd like to see, feel free to tell me and I'll try to
work it in if I can. For the records, who's your favorite character? : ) Well, thanks
again! Here's another chapter for youse! EnjoY!


*SportyChik425: Yeaaah! Runner showed up Spot alright! Muahahaha. I swear, that was a
golden moment for me. *sigh* But which of them really has the most charm. Ay, the world
may never know. As for Jack, forgetting, he does seem so perfect, doesn't he? : )
Maybe he was off dreaming about Santa Fe again? *shrugs* Sure, why not? lol! "Heya Race,
are ya gunna drop outta the bet?" *Race keeps his mouth sealed* Awww man! He's not
saying! Poops! Jack will have another try at Mallory in the next chapter or so! : )
Thanks for the review!


*Shortie: OMG, your review had me laughing hysterically!!! You're insane one, I tell ya.
Yepperz, I met the guy I like and today I even gave him a note. *Runner rolls his eyes*
Hahaha, the R-Man!? LOL!! Ya wanna steal dear ol' Runner, ay? That should be interesting...
You're not going to tie him to the seat of an airplane headed for some secluded island
on the Atlantic Ocean so that you can imprison him in a four-foot cabin and make him
listen to you repeat his nest lines in this story at least twenty-seven times over are
you? Yea, I thought you would. But hey, he's scaring me over here with all that Hebrew
talk, maybe you SHOULD take steal him for a weekend. *snickers* Ah, Yoda talk is
awesome! Have you seen that commercial for Star Wars II where the narrator is like
"Who's the Man" and then he says "Yo Da Man" ? *Runner arches an eyebrow* Okay, I thought
it was funny. BleH! Bring it on, I got Marshmallows? Muahahaha! Grandose! I'm going to
have to use that line somehow...although it might be a bit fluffy to be coming out of
Runner's mouth. So anywho, I was with the newsie the other day, when all of a sudden,
Race walks in with new clothes and a haircut...and...well, waxed eyebrows. We just stared
at him for a whole fifteen minutes wondering what the hell happened. Runner knew what
was up before the rest of us, but when he suggested that you had stolen Race, we only
started staring at Runner for a whole fifteen minutes. It was very confusing and now my
eyes just hurt. : ) Hahaha, Runner is a smart cookie...he just hides it very well.
*Runner smacks her upside the head* OWIE!! You Meanie!! Jack wanted to say something.
"It aint lyin', it's improvin' the truth!" All rite, now that that's said. Runner stealing
Spot's girls...well it only happened once or twice...or five or six times... *shrugs*
Hmmm, and as for whose hotter...I'm not even going to get into that issue. I'm afriad
I might wake up tied upside down from the roof of the Brooklyn lodging house...or worse,
a cathedral. Yay, Runner, someone likes you because of the pain in the ass you are!!
w00t w00t! Welperz, here's another chapter for youse, with a smidget of RUnner's smartness
and the beginning of your jealousy. *Runner blows Shortie a kiss before the chapter begins*
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. "How come I don't get kissies?!" *Runner blinks*














Just A Little Bet




~*~*~*~*~ Snap placed Jack's cowboy hat atop her head but scowled when it, being of

a much too large size, fell past her eyes and momentarily blacked out her vision. Beside

her, she heard the Manhattan leader laugh lightly and she almost smiled to herself at

having amused him in some way. She knew that since her arrival she had given him nothing

but trouble as she fulfilled the querolous attributes she was known for and it somewhat

lightened the load upon her as she showed her other qualities as a person. She could be

kindhearted when times called for it, times in which she would need to wheedle her way

out of a situation with the sole use of sweet talking, but wasn't raised on the streets

to be affable and well mannered. She was a tigress; she would get what she wanted even

if it meant breaking moral barriers.




Sometimes, they asked her if she felt an ounce of shame. The high class would wrinkle

their noses at the sight of her and bring a handkerchief to their mouths, as if her

very presence would spread some airborne disease. "Well brought up young ladies don't

maraud about in boy's clothing, stealing their meals and sleeping in alleys with hermits."

Snap would only give them a sarcastic look. Did it look as if she were a well brought

up brat? Hell, if she were, did they really think she would choose this lifestyle? She

associated with the riffraff, yes, and she sometimes had to break the law to survive,

yes, but did she honestly give a damn? Of course not.




"So, has youse ever sold papes before?" Jack shifted his stack of a hundred papers from

his left shoulder to his right and yawned from the morning grogginess he still felt.




"Mmm, in New Joisey I'se did 'fore a lil' bit," she replied, taking his hat off and

fixing it back upon his light brown hair. "But as youse can see from the number of papes

I'se bought, I weren't never good at it." She smiled at him and looked down at her

twenty morning editions humbly. Everyone had their weaknesses and if hers only covered

the selling aspects of a newsie's life, why should she hesitate to publicly acknowledge

that?




Jack laughed again and started to walk northward, still trying to decide where he would

sell today. Unlike most of his boys, he was a tumbleweed and sold wherever his adventures

led him. "Ya wanna sell wid me today?" He was fully expecting the girl to say no. After

having shot down Spot Conlon twice and then making out with the Brooklynite's younger

cousin, she wasn't exactly someone to be getting involved with.




"Shoah, why not? That'd be interestin'. I'se hoid some of the boys talkin' 'bout youse

sellin' like ya some god. Maybe I'se can loirn a thing or two." As an afterthought, she

added, "Hopefully free of charge." How Jack had swindled David into paying him for

selling observations was still talked about at the Manhattan lodging house and

newcomers to the place didn't have to even stay too long before they were told the classic

story.




"Nah, I'se don't make the goils pay, 'less of coise theys want to," he looked at her

slyly and managed to get a grin out of her.




"Ya know, I'se hoid more 'bout youse than ya tactics," she said then, as Jack was going

over the stories on the front page of his papers, making sure he hadn't missed something

that could be transformed into a best selling idea. He looked up at her and waited. "Like

how youse and Spot is best friends."




He shrugged. "Youse could say that. I'se known Spot since before we'se even became

newsies. Met 'im in the House of Refuge. As a mattah of fact, we'se started out hating

eachother's guts. After havin' fought one too many times, theys threw us out on the

streets and realizing we had in a way saved eachother from Snyder's hell, we'se started

lookin' out fer eachother."




Snaps rather liked the story. An ironic twist of events; it seemed as if that was the

way life worked out in these times. "That might explain the intimcay everyone's talkin'

about," she said quickly. "Tell me, Jack. Who's the better kissah, youse or Spotty?"




"How the hell should I'se know?" He turned to smile at her, but seeing her serious

expression confused him. "What are ya gettin' to?"




"Well, when youse been kissin' someone all ya life, I'se just thought ya might know

whether they's a better kissah than youse."




Jack stopped dead in his tracks. "You think me and Spot is a couple?!" Doubling over

to laugh, he dropped all his papers and the folded pages scattered along the sreets,

some getting caught by the wind and flying aloft in the air. "Oh my god! Sorry tah

break it to youse, sweetheart, but I don't swing that way." He wiped his eyes with the

back of his hands as they were steadily formulating tears. "I can't believe youse asked

me that! What idiot told ya THAT story!!?" He laughed for another good two minutes and

then wrapped his arms against his stomach to put pressure on the pain he now felt.




"Alotta people's been sayin it," she threw at him. "C'mon, I'se seen the looks youse

given 'im. What'sa mattah, Cowboy? Brooklyn aint givin' it tah youse no more?"




"Snap, if I'se didn't find so much humor in this, I'd punch all ya teeth out!" He set to

collecting his fallen papers, occasionally looking back at the girl to emphasize his

words. "Heah me out, I don't know who told ya that shit, but it aint true. Me and Spot

is just friends, that's all."




She walked up to him and looked him straight in the eye with an intimidating fierceness

that made him shudder inside. "If youse aint like that, then prove it."




"Whaddya want me to do? Screw 'im over tah see if I'se like it? Youse gots issues, goily.

I'se seriously considerin' sending ya tah Harlem or Staten where they's gots real nut

cases runnin' around. Have ya even told this tah Spot? D'ya realize he would embed a

shootah through ya forehead if ya did?"




"Alls I'se need ya tah do is kiss me. I'll know then if ya just kiss me."




"How would that prove anything?" he complained, growing annoyed by her persistence.




She grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer, locking her lips with his an

instant later. With her hands clasped behind his neck and his resting upon her hips, she

knew she had him right where she wanted. She knew he wasn't into men; it had merely

been a crafy diversion to blind him from her real scheme. Pulling away from him, she

caressed his cheek with her hand and nodded. "Ya right. Youse a ladies' man."




Jack halfsmiled and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Was that ya lil' way of gettin'

me tah kiss youse?"




"Jack! A goil's mind is trickier than that!" She pulled back her hair with a piece of

cloth that had been tied around her wrist and helped the Manhattan leader gather up

the last of his papers. When the morning editions were in order, they stood in silence

for a moment trying to decide where they would sell.




"Ah, let's just walk around and see where we'se end up."




Snap nodded in agreement and tagged alongside him with a pleased grin on her face. This

was working out just as she had wanted. With a few more minor adjustments, she would enjoy

the ferment she was creating. "Jack, I wanna ask youse a question and I need ya tah answer

me honestly. What would youse say tah us hookin' up?"




* * * * *




"No means No! Must I spell it out for you, Spot!? Why is it in your nature to be so

seduous? One would almost believe you'd given up by now! But no, here is Mr. Conlon

again, never receiving rejections lightly and never allowing a girl to pass up the chance

of being with him!" Mallory pulled at her curls in anger and continued venting as she

stormed about her living room with Spot looking on from the couch. "Can't you even

understand why I say no? Does my father being ill mean nothing to you?"




Spot sighed and played with the gold tassels of a pillow beside him. "At least youse is

talkin' so I'se can understand ya. That's an improvement."




She fumed and disappeared into the kitchen when the kettle of tea she was brewing began

to whistle. When she came back, she was carrying two cups of tea, one of which she handed

to Spot, setting the other on the table before her. "Would you like some sugar?"




"Actually, I'se shoulda told ya earlier, I aint really into tea. Gimme some pop, though,

and I'll be fine."




"Ugh!" She snatched the cup from him and spilt some of the hot liquid onto her skirt in

the process. "You couldn't have just accepted the tea, could you? No, you must proceed

to make my life a miserable happening!"




Spot smiled. "Ya want me tah help ya get outta that skoit?"




Mallory glared at him and slammed the cup down on the table, only to gasp when the

porcelain object cracked down a side. "Look at what you've made me do, Spot!!"




"I'se haven't done a single thing, goil!" He laughed, hiding the majority of his face

behind the pillow. "All these things youse bringin' upon yaself! Don't blame me!" But

she could hear his snickers behind the pillow and it took everything she was made of to

keep from throwing the tea into his face.




Meanwhile, Mr. Carter had been awakened by the noise and was journeying to the living

room to see about the problem, though he had much rather stayed in bed for his head

was now spinning with dizziness and his coordination would have been off were it not for

the support of the walls. "Mallory, dear, who are you arguing with?" He entered the room

to see his daughter holding a broken cup in her hands with wide eyes, and then looked

across from her where he saw a handsome boy who appeared amused. "Mallory, who is this

young man?"




"Father, this is my friend, Spot Conlon, who's come to visit me. I've been trying for

the longest to force him to leave for your own peace, but he refuses."




Mr. Carter smiled at Spot. "How pleasant! My daughter has never received a gentleman caller

before! This is a delight! Tell me more about yourself, Spot!" The unusual name did not

phase him in the least bit. The boy was obviously a newsie and that certainly did not

concern him. On the opposition, he always admired the lower classes for their humility

and acceptance of reality. Besides, this particular newsie seemed well behaved unlike

the other transients the man had known.




Mallory blushed at her father's words and reluctantly sat aside from the Brooklyn leader

as he related the basic details of his childhood and his tale of becoming the distinguished

person he now was. "Mr. Cartah, I'se actually heah for more than just a visit. Ya see,

I'se asked ya daughter tah see a play wid me a few days ago, and she had agreed tah it.

However, when I'se came tah pick her up today, she claimed that she couldn't 'cause

she was concerned about youse."




"Mallory! You should have told me about this engagement! You need not stay with me when

such a fine young man has invited you to a play! Why, you adore plays! I will not keep

you locked up in this house as if you are a prisoner. You are free to go where you please,

dear. I am not invalid; I can take care of myself for the few hours you will be gone. Go

with Spot and have fun!"




The girl shook her head. "No, no. I can always go some other time. I really don't-"




"Enough of this!" Mr. Carter raised his hand to silence her and smiled. "Mallory, go

with Spot and enjoy yourselves! I will hear nothing more. Go, go!"




"Well...I've nothing to wear!" Mallory crossed her arms and watched Spot to see how

he would weave his way out of this one. But her father beat him to it.




"Oh, such petty things you worry over! I should expect you back at around what time,

Spot?"




Spot had to bite his lower lip to keep from laughing at the girl's obvious disappointment.

"Uh, sir, I'se honestly don't know what time the play starts, but I'se can have her heah

'fore seven whether it's finished or not."




"Oh, how delightful!" Mr. Carter laughed and shook hands with the newsie. "Have her back

at seven, if only all gentlemen were like you! You may escort her back to this very house

by nine. And I will trust that you treat her with respect!"




"Of coise, Mr. Cartah," Spot smiled. "I'se wouldn't ever make Mal do somethin' she

aint wanna do."




"Mal? Ha, did you hear that, dearest? I am convinced to make that your new pet name!"




Mallory grimaced. "Please don't father, it is utterly atrocious." She glared at

Spot as she dressed herself in a thick wool jacket that dropped past her knees, covering

up the tea stain on her skirt, and fitted her hands through white leather gloves she had

received last Christmas from a distant relative. "I would hurl at the sound of it were

that a proper thing to do." But her father hadn't heard her. He was too busy admiring

her 'first gentleman caller'.




* * * * *



Becca patted a horse called Jumper on the shoulder after the animal had nuzzled her

cheek with its muzzle. "Jumper's one of my favorites," she told Race as he hung onto her

every word. "Me and his owner saw him in a race at the Virginia tracks. As soon as he

took off down those lanes, I fell in love. The way his muscles worked, the shine of his

coat, the desire to win in his eyes, I fell for it all. I convinced Mr. Webster to buy

him, assuring him that his losing days would be over with the horse on our side. At first,

he was unsure, even moreso when Jumper's previous owner requested a ridicolous amount

for the sale! But little by little, after a few more persuasions and a negotiation to

reduce the price, Jumper was ours. We took him here to Sheepshead, and as you probably

know if you follow the records, he's a true champion!"




Race smiled at her excitment when talking about the animals. It made HIM excited. "Did

all the horses come from outta state?"




"Most of them did, but not all of them." She ran her fingers through Jumper's mane and

then turned to a black horse a few stalls down. "This is Holiday Tricks. Some folks

were actually about to euthanize him because of a skin disease he had developed, but I

pleaded with Mr. Webster to save him. I've been working for him for five years now and when

I say I see a winning horse, he takes my word for it. So we took Holiday Tricks to a

veterinarian and over six months, the disease was cured." She laughed and leaned against

the belly of the horse. "Now, he doesn't like to admit it, but ol' Holiday here wasn't

strong and proud back then. Every day I had to rub his coat with a special cream to cure

him. But I don't mind, he's turned into another one of our champions."




"Do all of your horses turn out to be champions?"




Becca's smile dropped. "No, there's been a few occassions when the horse didn't come

out how we had thought, but I fully blame the trainers. They work these horses so hard..."

She sighed. "There was Tailspin, a horse that looked a lot like Jumper. He was a bit on

the obese side and the trainers worked him out for long hours each day to make him lose

the weight. One day, they made the horse run around a track for half the afternoon, with

no food or water, and whenever he stopped to relax, they would drag him with ropes and

force him on. An hour later, he dropped to his knees from fatigue and died right there

in front of us all."




Race rubbed her arm and held her close. "It wasn't your fault, Becca. I'se shoah youse

told 'em tah stop treatin' the horse like that. There weren't nothin' youse coulda

done. And just think, maybe Tailspin's in a better place now where he aint gotta run

races and stay on select diets. Now he can trot around carefree and roll in the grass

and play wid as many sugarcubes as he wants..."




She laughed and turned away from him. "They're like my family, Racetrack. I know each

and every one of them like the back of my hand." She petted Holiday Trick's neck and

sighed. "At night, I tell them all my secrets and dreams, and they kiss me goodnight

on the cheek or forehead before I leave. We're a family."




"Bettah tah have a family of horses than no family at all, I guess."




"Better to have a family of horses than any family!" she corrected, staring into the

horses' eyes. And when she returned her gaze to Race, she could tell he did not

understand and probably never would.




* * * * *




"Lucas! Wait up, I had to ask you a question!" Patrick Tyler jogged up to his friend

and panted from the sprint. He was not exactly the sportish type, that much was evident,

and so a simple walk across the cathedral could easily tire him. "I would have inquired

this of you when class ended, but you sped out the door so fast, I don't even think

you received Father Aesop's assigment!"




Runner shrugged. "So were you wanting something?" The young Conlon always thought of

Patrick as an unusual character. Not too long ago, the boy had suddenly vanished from

his dormitory at Saint John's Preparatory School, closing classes that day-and for the

rest of the week, and setting the entire teaching staff on a state wide search that

ended in vain until one day, Patrick had been found by a group of nuns distributing bread

and tea at a train station. Apparently, the boy had been 'called' to preach to the

homeless ones that dwelled at the station every night. Runner knew better and would only

say that Patrick was slightly 'off'.




"Oh yes! You see, I'm not a genious like you, Lucas, and so my grasp on Calculus this

semester is tenuous. I can barely comprehend the formulas we use to solve the equations!

I was hoping, perhaps when you were free, that you could possibly tutor me?"




Runner groaned at the request. How many more classmates were going to ask for his aid?

If only Father Aesop had not announed the boy's "Perfect Score Streak" that had begun

three weeks ago when he was the only one in class to receive a hundred on a test

that was compiled to LOWER the students' scores. It was policy to test the student body

to their fullest limits, but Runner seemed to make limits of his own. "Yea, well I'll

see if I can fit it in this week. You going to the play?"




Patrick pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "What time does it start?"




"In thirty minutes."




"No, I should be getting to my Latin homework and history essay." And with that, he

thanked his friend and hurried off with books in hand.




Runner shook his head. "That damn history essay aint due 'til a month from now," he

muttered under his breath. Paying attention to his immediate agenda, he hurried to the

sanctuary where his play was being held and checked with the directors and choir members

one last time to make sure they knew their cues. Then he made a quick appearance backstage

and led the actors in a prayer, at the request of his mother, finally throwing his white

gown as an altar boy over his current clothes and grabbing a pile of programs to be given

out before the production at the doors.




At a quarter to six, Spot had still not shown up and Runner was growing agitated. It

wasn't enough that his father was away on some 'Peace Agreement' Mission in Africa, now

his cousin was going to be absent as well!? He distracted himself by tearing the edges

of the last program he held, imagining what could possibly be keeping Spot from making

it on time.




"Heya Runnah, youse into origami now?"




Lost in his thoughts, Runner had not even seen Spot as the Brooklyn leader passed through

the doorways with a girl behind him. "Bout time."




Spot smirked. "I'se touched, Runnah. Did me attendance really mean that much tah youse?"




"Not really," the younger lied, not willing to put down his heartless barriers, something

Spot was just as guilty for. "Actually, I was on me way tah lock the doors fer the night.

Ya lucky youse made it on time. Who's the goily?"




"This is the one I'se been tellin' ya about fer days now," Spot answered, as he pulled

Mallory in front of him. "This is Mallory Alexandria Cartah."




Runner's jaw dropped open and the program he was holding fell from his fingers in a soft

glide to the floor. The sounds surrounding him, everything from the chatter of the

audience to the reverberating echoes of the pipe organ's tunes, was no more than a

whisper to him now. All he saw was none other than Mallory. It was her! He could

hardly believe it. She didn't recognize him obviously for she only regarded him as a

new acquaintance and held out her hand in affable means to befriend him, but he knew

it was her from the moment their eyes met. He could never forget.




Spot gave his cousin a small push. "Heya, youse okay?"




"Uh, yea, of coise." He shook his head as if awakening from a dream, wishing Mallory

had only been a gossamer image of his hallucinations, but there she was, still extending

her hand and waiting for him to grasp it. He took it gratefully, though he did not smile.

His state of shock was beyond any attempt to express his feelings.




Mallory smiled. "It was nice meeting you, uhm...?"




"Lucas!" the boy answered instantly, hoping the name would somehow spark a memory in the

girl's mind. It didn't . Worse of all, he could tell Spot was getting suspicious.

Runner only revealed his real name to the congregation of church. Outside cathedral walls,

he was known by his chosen alias. "It was great meeting youse too, Mallory."




The girl smiled again and then walked off with Spot to find a good seat for the play,

leaving Runner behind to stare after. Mallory...he remembered the first time he had seen

her. He could never forget her. He could never forget the girl that had stolen his heart.




* * * * *




GUESS WHAT!?!? Jack Kelly is so in love with SANTA FE that the kind people at
fanfiction.net agreed to give him one thousand dollars for every review that was sent
to this chapter of the story. *Runner breaks out a calculator and helps Morning Dew
add* Now, our dear Manhattan leader would like to go see a few Rodeos and he told me
the other night that he wants to purchase a horse or two for some ranch he plans to
have in a few years. So naturally, Becca has to go with him to pick out the right
horses. SO PLEASE HELP send Jack to Santa Fe!!! We all know how much he loves the place
and it would just break his heart if we couldn't raise enough money!!! *Jack sings
"Santa Fe" while Spot organizes the "Send JACK to SANTA FE Campaign" Did I spell that
right? LoL!!! SUBMIT THOSE REVIEWS!!!!!!! THANK YOUSE!!! *Jack blows kisses to his
supporters* Love ya all!!!