AN- The newsies that left were just two random extras. We'll call them Sleepy and Dopey. Oh, and sorry about all those type-O's in the last chapter. Yikes! Oh, and tell me if you like this twist in plot at all. I'm not sure if it's good.

"Well, here we is Sport. The newsies lodging house. It ain't much, but it's home sweet home." Race announced as they walked in the door. They had left David off to go home alone.

Sport smiled. "It reminds me of sweet home Chicago." The two boys signed in with Kloppman before heading upstairs to find some nice warm beds. Jack, who was currently brushing his teeth, stopped them.

"'Eya Race, who's ya friend?" He asked, spitting some toothpaste on Race's shirt.

"Wash ya mouth out ya bum!" Race replied, wiping off his shirt with a disgusted look on his face.

"I think that's what I'm doing right now." He said. Then turned toward the sink to spit.

"Anyway, this is the kid I was telling you about. I'm calling him Sport."

"Oh, so this is the white sox fan? " Jack smiled. "Well, welcome to the Manhattan newsies, Sport.

"Hey, I gotta go tell Blink about the game. Think you show Sport the ropes for me?" Race asked him.

"Yeah sure thing Race." As soon as Race had walked away, Jack pulled Sport close enough to whisper. "'Ey Bird. What took you so long to get here? I was worried you had gotten killed in the streets."

"Nah, I just got really lost. You gave me some bad directions in that letter you sent to my bruder. Besides my train was a day late. I wasn't able to meet you like we planned."

"So you couldn't have just asked someone for directions to the Manhattan newsie lodging house?"

"And done what? Just strolled in here, demanding to see the great Jack Kelly? I don't think that would have looked too good. We needed the meeting to look a little less awkward."

"And this will be your bunk." Jack raised his volume, trying to make their secret conversation look natural. Then he whispered again. "So how'd you get hooked up with Racetrack anyways. He said you ran into him. I knew it was you when he said you made a bet on the White Sox."

"Well, actually I had been following him for a couple of blocks. I've been stalking a few of your boys lately. I wanted to make sure they were one of you newsies. I couldn't remember what paper you sold for, and I had tossed your letters a while ago. So I waited until I distinctly heard one of them say something about you. Race had mentioned that you owed him a quarter from an old gamble, so I knew he must have known you. So I purposely ran into him, dropped the World's sports page, that I was so lucky to have been carrying, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"You're a genius Sport. A bit on an overachiever, but a genius none the less. You went through all that trouble."

"Just to make sure our meeting was perfect and believable." Sport had cut him off. "I kinda felt guilty lying to those boys though. It's not in my character."

"I don't care about your character, I just hope your genius can help me. The Manhattan newsies are in trouble.