"100 papes" Jack said, taking his share. The boys were at the distribution office getting ready for another day of carrying the banner.

"50 papes" Racetrack said, after making small talk.

"100 papes." Sport picked up his load and sat down by Race and Jack.

"Anything good this morning?" Race asked Jack.

"Race, you ask me that every single day. When have I ever answered you, ya bum?"

"I dunno." Race picked up his papers, shaking Jack's comment off. "Well, let's get going. There are papers to be sold and bets to be made." The large group of newsies walked off to the front gate.

"Heya Sport, how's about youse sell with me taday?" Jack asked the boy.

"Yeah, sure thing Jack." The two walked off towards the square. "So Jack, what's the trouble with the Manhattan newsies?." Sport asked when they were away from the other newsies.

"Hold on," Jack said as he pulled him into a near by ally so no one would hear their conversation. "It all started about two months ago, exactly one month after the famous strike ended. Our allies, Brooklyn, were having some internal trouble with there leadership. There was a guy named Crystal that was challenging the current leader, Spot Conlon's, authority. Spot had taken ill for about two weeks, and Crystal saw his chance. He and his friend Porkey killed by stabbing him and pushing him off the Brooklyn Bridge. His body was found floating down the Brooklyn river the next day." Jack said, with a tear in his eye.

"Are you allright?" He asked Jack.

"Yeah, I'm fine" He said, going on. "Anyway, now the guy in charge wants to take over the rest of the newsies. He's got an ally in the Bronx leader, which leaves us Midtown, Harlem, and Queens. The problem is, Brooklyn and the Bronx are the two largest and toughest groups of newsies there is. I've got some spys in Brooklyn, kids who loved Spot Conlon. In the Bronx I got nothin'."

"Alright, I understand. What I don't understand is why you needed this Chicago newsie to come all the way to New York to solve this. I mean, what can I do that you can't do?

"Did yer bruder not tell you anything? I need someone other then Davey to organize and plan this whole thing. He may be able to organize a strike, but he could never plan attacks or soak nobody. I can't do it because it's way too personal for me. With my sidekick Spot gone, I don't know what to do. Manhattan and Brooklyn have always fought together, never against each other. Besides, I'm eighteen now, and I've gotta be leaving the newsies soon. So I wrote your bruder Tony, since he's the leader of south Chicago. I asked if he could send someone to help. Since I knew him when he lived up here, he promised to send me you. 'Said the police were after you in Chicago, and you needed a place to hide out anyway. He told me you were vicious and cut throat and wanted for murder." Sport cringed at the mention of this. Jack didn't notice and carried on, "I told him that was exactly what we needed. But now that I see you, you don't seem to be all he made you out to be."

Sport sighed, "Well, he told you the truth. I'm vicious and cut throat when I have to be, but I don't like to be. And yes, I am wanted for murder."

"Really, this I gotta hear." Jack leaned in to listen.

"Well, I'm not telling you. It's not something I care to remember right now. Besides, what's important right now is the Manhattan newsies." Jack's pride was slightly bruised by Sport's statement, but he ignored it and listened. "First what we gotta do is get some spy's in the Bronx."