(1900)

Three years passed, with both Spot and Russ undergoing many changes in their lives. Russ had worked his way into power in the Bronx- through both murder and persuasion. At 20, he was still a newsie, living from day to day trying to scratch a living out of the streets of New York. He still hated Spot with a passion and avoided Brooklyn at all costs. Except for during the Strike. Not wanting to let Spot Conlon look better than he, Russ joined the strike, but didn't mix with the newsies from Brooklyn. Now there was nothing to keep him from trying to take Brooklyn away from Spot; and that was just what he intended to do. One afternoon, Russ and his three best newsies sat around in the lodging house waiting for everyone else to come back from selling when one of Russ's messengers ran in, completely out of breath.

"Jake went over ta Brooklyn an' they beat him bad." the boy said, gasping for air, "He went to some hospital ta get stiched up."

Russ glared menacingly. He snapped his knife open and shut over and over as the messenger related the whole story. When he was done, Russ stood, shoving his knife into his pocket. "Conlon's gonna pay." he said. He turned to the kid, "Ya done good, now get outta here." The boy left, knowing that Russ was in no mood to argue about it.

"So what are we gonna do?" Fist asked. He was a red-headed Irish immigrant who's temper matched his hair. He took out his knife and played with it almost eagerly.

"We's gonna get Spot Conlon back." Russ replied, "What do y' think?"

"How? Brooklyn's huge." Luis said with a frown, "Sides, Spot's boids are gonna hear bout dis before he does an' tell him." Luis ran a hand through his unruly brown hair as he began to consider how the heck they were going to "get" Spot.

"We gonna attack 'em from all sides?" Steele asked eagerly. He was Fist's best friend and the two had matching tempers.

"No we ain't." Russ said, "Somehow we're gonna find out Spot's weakness an' get him there."

"What weakness?" Luis scoffed. Out of all the newsies from the Bronx, he was the only one who would dare talk back to Russ, but that was because they had been friends forever and Russ usually didn't care what his friend said.

"He's gotta have one!" Fist protested.

"Sure he does." Russ said, "The same one all guys have."

"Girls." Fist and Steele said in unison.

"Girls? Russ, youse gotta stop and think about dis." Luis said in a doubtful tone.

"Why?" Russ asked, "Ain't done me any good. Now listen, we just need a girl who'll go in there an' distract Spot so we can go in an take Brooklyn back."

"Jo'll do it." Fist said, referring to Russ's 17 year old sister, "Ask her."

Russ hesitated. "I dunno. I don' like the idea of Jo bein' used an' abused by those river rats." he said, "Especially if Conlon finds out about who she is."

"So he won't." Steele said with a shrug. "Jo won't let him. She's smarter than that."

"Yeah." Russ was still hesitant. Somehow it didn't seem right to send his sister into Brooklyn and let her be used. But the odds were in her favor that things would be just fine. So Russ yelled for Jo to come downstairs. The young red headed girl came down and the four boys explained what was going on. She didn't hesitate to say yes and as soon as she did, she went upstairs to pack.

Jolene "Jo" Carter was 17 and very well liked among the male newsies in the Bronx. Her charming ways and sassy smile had made her popular, and she well knew her talents. "Who knows?" she told herself, "Winning the heart of the toughest guy in the city could be fun." But Jolene also knew the danger involved. Should Spot find out who she really was, she would be thrown out of Brooklyn, but not before she was beaten and worse. She wasn't worried though, she was convinced that her task would be easy, and over quickly- with no feelings involved at all. This in mind, she and Luis went to Brooklyn to set the stage for the charade.