"Great Josephine," she chided herself after he had gone, "Just spectacular. A chain-smoking, alcoholic newsboy with an anger management problem that has seduced more than half the females in New York City. Wonderful. Splendid showing."

"Hey, wait! I forgot something!" Spot said, popping up the frame of her window.

Lily jumped, but fortunately held back a scream of fright. Did this boy never give up? "Um, yes?" she asked, trying to regain her composure. She had been so startled that she'd forgotten to use her stern tone. "What was it that you forgot?"

He climbed back into her room through her window. Swinging the last leg over the sill, he was inside. He stood before her, and she noticed that the same confident smile had returned to his face, unphased by their previous interaction. "I was just wonderin…"

"No, Spot Conlon, no," her mind was screaming, "I know what you are about to ask, and your answer is no. Just because I may have allowed her lips to graze my cheek ever so slightly does not mean that you may do it again. Nor does it mean that I am your girl or anything of that nature. And don't even think of anything beyond that. Because you are certainly not going to bed with me.! Did you hear that? You are not bedding this girl! I am not going to be another one of your conquests. Not this girl! Never!"

Spot finished his sentence, but Lily did not hear. Instead, she offered him an alarming look, complete with fiery eyes. She was more than ready to give him a fairly sized piece of her strong-willed resistance.

"God, Jo, you ain't gotta gimme a crazy look like dat," he said, "it's jist a stinkin pahty. You ain't gotta go if ya don't wanna."

The angry look disappeared from Lily's face and was quickly replaced by a confused one. Party? Had he said anything about a party? She must have been so busy giving herself a mental lecture that she had drowned out what he said. "Party?" she questioned, "What party?"

"Ah…..so ya do wanna go. Come on," Spot's confident, smug look had returned to his face. After all, he was Spot Conlon. What girl could resist him? He grabbed Lily's arm and began to lead her in the direct of the window, his exit of choice.

"Wait, wait, wait Conlon!" Lily resisted, reclaiming her arm. "I never said I'd go with you to this party. Or anywhere else for that matter. It's late, and I've got rehearsals in the morning. And on top of that, I've got no idea where the hell you plan on taking me, or what you think you're going to do with me when you get me there."

"Hey it's jus a party. It ain't like I'se gonna take you to the Bridge and throw ya off it or somethun.' And like I said, ya ain't gotta go if ya don't wanna." Spot shrugged and turned in the direction of the window to leave. He was pretending not to care if she decided to grace him with her presence or not, but he was secretly fuming. Apparently, he had been right in the first place. Who did this broad think she was refusing a night out on the town with Spot Conlon? Didn't she know that he was the most feared and respected newsie in New York and that she was violating an unwritten law by not accepting his offer? Hell, who needed her anyway? He could find someone who was a little less stuck up and a bit more "willing" at the party.

Lily was mulling over the advantages and disadvantages of going somewhere alone with this kid, this urchin she had just met. It shouldn't matter how attractive his confidence was or how she felt when his steel blue eyes looked through her, or even how his brief kiss had made her melt. He was a stranger, and from the assessment of his visible weapons that she had made, and the knowledge she had gained of his character through Maggie's words of warning, she knew that she should just shoo him out of the window and lock it behind him. But she was having a bit of trouble convincing herself that this was what she wanted to do.

Though practicality and rationality told her to resist, her heart had already said yes and was presently following Spot Conlon out of the window. And besides, the longest relationship he had ever had was a week. The affair they were obviously embarking on would surely only last a week. And here it was Tuesday already. By Friday or Saturday he'd be bored with her, and she'd be rid of him, free to carry out her life as planned.

She looked at her clock. It was only nine thirty two. Still early by New York standards. And she could just stay out for a little while. There was no need to be gone all night.

Spot had one foot out of the window and ready to throw his other leg over the ledge when he heard her call out behind him, "Alright, I'll go." He smiled and turned around to face her. "Now, that's more like it," he said.

"Just let me get my shoes, but I'm only going on my conditions. One, I am only staying out as long as I want to. When I am ready to go, you will kindly escort me back here, no questions asked. Two, you are not getting any favours of any kind out of me. So, if you were considering that sort of thing, please erase it from your mind this minute. And three, the knife is coming with us." As she said the last sentence, she pulled up her skirt and tucked the knife into a sheath that was strapped around her thigh. She fastened the buckles on her shoes, and headed in the direction of the window.

As she reached their egress, Spot offered her his hand to help her climb out, but she refused it with a shake of her head and a, "No thank you. I won't be needing it." With that statement, she swiftly and deftly climbed out of the window and began making her way down the fire escape ladder.

Spot smirked. This girl was something. He didn't know what kind of something she was yet. But she was definitely something he had never experienced before. His initial reaction had been one of delight. However, his instinct told him that she could be trouble. She was older by three years, and Spot wasn't accustomed to anything more than one night stands with older women. And then there was the matter of her profession. He didn't know of many newsboys who weren't familiar with Lily Fox or her show. He wondered just how many men were killing themselves to court her at that very moment. That little fact bothered him more than her being older. If he were to start a relationship with her and things did not go exactly how she would have liked them to, she could probably snap her fingers and find herself a new suitor. Spot could be usurped in under an hour. It'd certainly be risky to make her his girl. His girl. To Spot Conlon, it was certainly an interesting, almost tasty thought.

As Spot stood there, thinking, Lily had nearly reached the ground. He had to run to catch up with her. "Where are you taking me anyway?" she inquired of him.

"'S' boithday party for one a me boys. Big to do and everything. The woiks, ya know?" he responded.


~***~


They walked in silence, Lily following Spot's lead until he finally stopped. Lily looked up to see the building at which they had stopped.

"Whitewall Pub," Lily said with a note of disgust in her voice, reading the sign, "It's a pub?"

"Yeah," Spot said, nodding, "the good ol'Whitewalla."

"So I read," she answered, almost in disbelief that 'dah woiks' would take place in a pub he called the "Whitewalla." "Let me guess, does it have white walls?"

"Nah," said Spot, shaking his head. "They're brown. Now, you'se comin' in or ya gonna stay out here talkin' all night?" He walked in the direction of the pub with the intention of heading in.

Lily stood there, staring at the building. She had never been in a tavern. As she looked at the building, she could only imagine how seedy it would be inside. The very thought of the crudity its patrons were sure to embody made her cringe. She sighed. "It's only for one week. Only one week," she repeated to herself as if it could offer her some kind of reassurance. She shrugged her shoulders, resolved to be a good sport, and then ran off to catch Spot.

She was directly behind him when he opened the door to the pub, revealing an entire world almost unbeknownst to the outside. Lily's eyes opened wide to take in all that she saw around her. The walls, as Spot had said, were certainly brown, but the gaslight made them emit a glow that was near otherworldly. And everywhere, in every corner, lining every wall, in all places that her eyes could see were newsboys, easily over a hundred of them in the room. Dirty newsboys in clothes too big or small for them with ragged collars and holes in their pockets. They were talking and smoking, laughing and carousing. Some were dancing, and even more were drinking. They carried on without stopping, but as Lily walked through the door, she could feel their eyes on her. And she didn't like it one bit.

She was accustomed to having men's eyes upon her, yes. However, that was when she was safely onstage performing, and there were stagehands, security guards, and others two steps away if something should go awry. In this room full of unfamiliar boys with questionable motives, she had zero security. Lily followed closely behind Spot through the room as he parted a path through the sea of boys. She held kept a light hold on the back of his threadbare shirt for protection.

She could hear some of them whistle. "Hey Conlon, whatcha got there?" one of them yelled, followed by another shout of "Looky, looky at Brooky dere!" Lily couldn't see Spot's face, but she knew….she just knew he was smiling that smug, satisfied grin of his. Suddenly, a boy jumped down from a table and landed in front of her. He was tall and blonde, from what she could tell through the smoky air, and he was wearing an eye patch. "Hey," he said without the slightest formal introduction, "you wanna dance?"

Lily wasn't sure how to answer this ragamuffin kid. She stuttered for a moment. "Uh, uh," looking around the room, before she smiled a confused sort of smile, and said, "Alright." Before she could conjure a second thought, the kid took her hand and whisked her onto the dance floor where the makeshift band was playing a lively jig.

While Lily was being swung around the floor in grand circles, Spot made his way over to the bar where several other boys were standing. "Heya Spot," said one who was sitting on a barstool, leaning back against the bar, an sulking girl standing beside him. "Heya Jacky," Spot answered, pulling up a stool. "Hey Sarah," he addressed the girl. She forced a smile and nodded at him. Jack passed Spot a bottle, and Spot took a swig.

"I would uh, ax ya how it's rollin', but from the looks o'that there, I think I already know," Jack said, raising his eyebrows at Spot. Another boy with black hair, outfitted in a vest and a cigar, came up to them. "Heya Race," said Jack.

"That there's Lily Fox, ain't it?" Race asked, his dark eyes wide.

Spot smiled smugly once more and then answered with an equally smug, "Yup, it sure is."

Race looked impressed. "Tell me somethun' Conlon," he said, "how did you get Lily Fox to come all the way down here?"

"I know how he got 'er here," Jack said and both boys turned to face him as he went on, "he threatened 'er wit his stick." Jack and Race laughed.

"Hey, watch yer mouth there, Kelly," Spot threatened.

"Wha?" said Jack innocently, "Ya knows as well as I knows that there ain't too many people you don't threaten wit that stick o'yours."

"And if ya don't shut yer face," Spot retorted, "I'm gonna take this stick and shove it up yer ass."

"Nah," said Jack to Race, "maybe he didn't need to use the stick this time. Jus' look at 'is face." Jack grabbed Spot's face, turned it toward Race, and squeezed it to illustrate his point while he said, "Wit a puss like this, ya don't need no stick.

"Get yer hands off me face Kelly," Spot angrily spat, pushing Jack's hand off of his face as Jack and Race erupted into laughter.

The three boys quieted as their attention turned to Lily who was still on the floor dancing. They watched graceful movements as she spun around the floor in the arms of one of their friends. "Spot, don't take this the wrong way," Jack said, his eyes still upon Lily, "But you know she's too good for you, right?"

Spot nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said offhandedly. In truth, he did really know – he understood this simple fact in a way that none of the other boys could. In fact, he was amazed that he had even gotten the likes of the near-famous Lily Fox to follow him to the tavern. An entertainer of her status was greatly revered among newsboys. Vaudeville dancing girls were as close as they would ever get to meeting royalty. For a moment, Spot forgot his own rank and began to wonder just what a girl like her was doing in a place like this with the likes of him, anyway. He took another swig from Jack's bottle of gin, his eyes still fastened to Lily's body.

Out on the floor, she was becoming dizzy from having been whirled around to the lively beat of the jig. Her partner, she had found out in between desperate attempts to catch her breath, was named Kid Blink. When the song finally stopped, Lily breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that surely she was now free to rest. However, she found she was mistaken when another newsboy immediately came up to take Blink's place. "Dance?" he asked.

Lily looked at him incredulously, but shrugged and said, "Why not?" The band struck up another fast paced tune, and Lily once again found herself being led all over the floor at rapid pace. "Name's Specs," he said.

"Speckled?" Lily questioned, trying to hear over the loud music.

"No, Specs," he repeated.

"Ohh…I'm Li-" Lily started to say, but was interrupted.

"I know who ya are," Specs said. Lily started to question his statement, but decided not to. Better to save her breath for dancing instead of talking because, from the look of it, she wouldn't be resting anytime soon.

Lily tramped all over the floor in the arms of one boy after another. Blink, Specs, Skittery, Rock, Bumlets, Johnny, TJ, Stinga, Nickel, Red, Big Moe, Esco, Quints, Ralphie……so many names, she was beginning to lose track. She was out of breath and her feet were aching from the steps and the occasional accidental stomp of a newsboy's booted foot. As a slower song began to be played, she finally thought the break she'd been waiting for had come. She was ready to march over to the bar to get something to quench her dancing-induced thirst when she was approached by yet another boy.

He had black hair and was decked out in a cap and a vest. He threw the cigar he was smoking on the ground and snuffed it out with his foot before approaching her. When he reached her, he bowed. Lily, amused by the boy's grand antics, played along and executed a deep curtsy. "Pardon me," he said, "but would you do me the honor of grantin me this dance?"

Lily laughed and held out her hand, "Now how could a girl refuse such an honor?"

Race took her hand and began to slowly lead her in sweeping circles. "Racetrack Higgins, pleased to make ya acquaintance," he said.

"Well, Racetrack Higgins," Lily answered, "the pleasure is mine." The song suddenly began to speed up, causing Race to increase his velocity. He led her from one side of the floor to the other, occasionally twirling her with ease. Not one time did one of his deft feet come close to trampling one of Lily's. And for that she was most grateful.

Spot looked out at Lily and Race's dance from his post at the bar. The girl hadn't gotten a chance to stop moving since she walked in. She was overly popular because all the boys had heard of her, many of them patrons of her theatre. Spot knew the kind of reaction he'd stimulate by bringing her here. He felt empowered at knowing that Lily's popularity would raise his status and impress many of the boys. But watching her out there, seeing all of the boys' eyes on her, how they held her when they danced, and the way she sparkled, he couldn't help but feel the jealousy take hold of him, as its heat traveled up the back of his neck.

Lily was glad when the song finally ended. She curtsied as Race bowed to her again, but she was determined to hold to her earlier decision. She was certainly stopping this time. If anyone asked for another dance, she'd tell him most sternly that they'd have to wait a few minutes. Exiting the floor, she pushed her way toward where she'd seen Spot sitting from a blurred glimpse she had caught of him while dancing. He sat at the bar with another boy and a very cross-looking girl. When she finally reached him, she noticed the smug look was yet to leave his face.

"Had enough?" he offhandedly asked her, more of a statement than a question. She nodded, still trying to catch her breath. "Ya want somethin' to drink?" he asked her.

"Scotch," she said, and was almost immediately handed a glass. She drank it down quickly, not stopping to pause for air.

"This here is Jack Kelly," said Spot, motioning to the boy standing beside them with the red bandana around his neck, "and that is Sarah. His girl."

Jack nodded and smiled, but Sarah's only reaction was a look of disdain. "Jack," she said in a quiet, almost pleading voice, "I'd like something to drink."

"Alright," he answered, "I'll get ya some water or somethin'." He began to motion for the bartender to come over.

"No," said Sarah, "I think I'll have what she's having."

Lily noticed her voice change to almost a hiss when she said the word "she." What was this girl trying to do? Match wits with her by out-drinking her? Was she jealous or something? Did she think that Lily was out to steal her little boyfriend and that she was going to show her who's boss by matching ever drink Lily took.

Jack looked surprised at Sarah's demand, but when the bartender reached him, he nonetheless said ever so simply , "Scotch for the lady."

When Sarah received her drink, she was seemed shocked by it's taste. She wrinkled her nose at the first sip and started to put it down. But, after a quick look at Lily, she remembered how the other girl had finished the entire drink without flinching, and Sarah quickly gulped down the rest.

Lily was keeping a close eye on Sarah. When she saw the look of satisfaction in Sarah's eyes after she'd finished the entire glass, she said softly, "I think I'll have another one." She watched Sarah's face to see what would happen.

Just as she had thought she would, "Yes, me too," said Sarah. Both girls were passed another glass. They drank them down, never taking their eyes off of each other. The other boys in the room had begun to notice what was happening and started to form a crowd around them.

"You wan' another one, Sarah?" Jack asked. Sarah looked at Jack, then she looked at Lily, not sure how she should answer. No, she didn't really want another one, and she was hoping that she wouldn't have to choke one more down.

"Sure she does," Lily spoke up, now fully aware of what was taking place and wanting to see how far she could push Sarah. She wanted to see what would happen when the prissy little thing had her fill. Lily had an overwhelming desire to know how amusing it could be.

Again, both girls were passed another drink. Sarah took a sip of hers slowly, cringing in distaste yet again. But when she saw that Lily was steadily drinking hers, she began to force it down. Though she had made it to the bottom of the glass, she was beginning to feel a little woozy. Lily smiled at Sarah as the barkeep passed them yet another round. Lily took a sip of hers and watched Sarah shakily lift the glass to her mouth and drink some of the potent liquid. Sarah then put the glass down. "Jack, I don't-" she began to say but was not able to finish before she closed her eyes and started sliding off of her stool.

"Whoa!" Jack said catching her as the pub erupted in newsboys' cheers. "I think you'se had enough there Sarah."

Lily herself was beginning to feel a little sick, but her triumph had distracted her. She received even more of a distraction when she felt a hot and familiar voice whisper into her ear, "That there may be the greatest thing I'se seen in a long time." She turned around, coming face to face with Spot. "I didn't know ya had it in ya," Spot said, obviously amused but beaming with pride.

Lily smiled slyly and shrugged. She jumped down from her stool, but as her feet hit the ground, she began to feel a bit faint and unsteady. The room spun a little, but she was able to steady herself and regain her composure before anyone noticed. She was lightheaded and giddy from her four glasses of Scotch, so she set out the rejoin the newsies on the dance floor before her happy tipsiness left her for the nausea that was sure to follow.

She had not gotten far when she heard Spot's voice call out to her, "Excuse me, Miss Fox." She turned around to face him, awaiting the continuation of his sentence. "I was wonderin' just when ya planned on dancin' wit the fellow that brought ya."

"Why?" Lily questioned, trying to get a rise out of him, "Does the fellow who brought me want to dance?"

Spot stood up and walked over to her, "Yeah, ya might say that."

"Well, then," Lily replied, "the fellow should ask, now shouldn't he?"

"Lily Jo Fox," Spot said grandly, deliberately trying to act overly sophisticated, "Would ya do me the honor of havin' this dance?"

Lily smiled. "No," she said casually. She turned to walk away but the quick whipping motion of her head made her feel dizzy once again. "Whoa," she said as she stumbled over her own feet and began a downward path toward the floor.

Spot caught her hand and pulled her toward him. Holding tightly onto her waist so that she would not fall down, he said in a firm voice, "I think ya better dance with me. For your own good."

"Oh, alright," she said with reluctance, her speech a bit slurred from the liquor. She draped on arm over his shoulder and place her hand into his. "If I must…"

From that point on, the two shared dances with no one else. The night was growing later, and the floor was emptying. There were just a handful of couples left on the floor when the band began to play a slow song. It had a ¾ signature, a rhythm Lily knew well: a waltz. The beat was so familiar, one two three, one, two, three……she hadn't heard one in years and as it played, she felt a pang of nostalgia. "Spot," she asked as she swayed in his arms to the music, "do you know how to waltz?"

"Waltz?" he questioned, "No. What's a waltz?"

"Well, it's this really," Lily said. "It's got three beats. One, two, three, one, two, three. Hear them? The way that you waltz is - well, here let me show you. But you'll have to let me lead."

Lily took the lead and Spot tried to follow. He stumbled a few times, but after he caught on, they were swiftly moving in an elegant circular pattern.

"Alright, alright," he said, "I'se got it. Lemme lead now. A girl ain't no good at leadin."

Lily allowed him to take the lead. She closed her eyes as their feet slid over the floor. The song even sounded familiar. The tune was very close to a song she had heard many times in her childhood. She knew the words by heart. She began to hum the tune as she danced, her eyes still closed. Then, the humming turned into words as Lily sang in French the song she had learned as a child.

Spot noticed her humming and then her French singing. He was surprised that she spoke French, but did not interrupt her to question why she did. She looked as if she were in a trance, as if she were somewhere else and not in the room at all. She looked happy. Spot smiled, and decided not to interrupt her. Happiness seemed to be hard to come by those days, and he wasn't not going to be one to snatch it from anyone who had managed to harness it.


~***~


On the walk home, the Scotch had taken finally its full effect. Lily wasn't walking back to the theatre - she was floating. Floating and chattering without ceasing. She hummed and danced while she walked down the street.

Spot struck a match and lit an already half-smoked cigarette. He took a drag from it and offered it to Lily. "You want?" he asked. She shook her head. "I'm gonna take it that you had yourself a good time," Spot said, smiling at her giddiness.

"Oh, yes," said Lily, "it was perfectly lovely. And that song at the end, that was a beautiful song, didn't you think?" She began to hum more of the song.

"Yeah, beauty-ful," Spot said, "and hey, I didn't know ya spoke French."

"Yes," answered Lily, "I learned when I was very young."

"So, ya speak French, ya waltz, ya drink Scotch. Is dere anyt'ing ya can't do?" he asked.

Lily thought for a moment. She spread her arms, "Hmmmm, I can't fly. Although I tried once when I was about seven, and it didn't end well. I can't……I can't knit. And I was never very good at archery. I can't-"

Spot interrupted, "Alright, I get it. What are ya? Are ya a some richie or somethun?"

Lily stopped in her tracks and was silent. The smile disappeared from her face. After a second or two, she slowly began walking behind Spot. Spot noticed the tension that the last subject had seemed to caused and quickly searched his mind for something with which to break the silence.

"So, uh," he stared, "ya sure showed that Sarah back there. Ha! Drinkin her under the table like that. She had it comin to 'er. She's a whiny, little priss of a bitch and she don't like me for some reason."

"Now how could that be?" Lily laughed. "I might have 'shown her' back there, but I am going to be such a mess in the morning. Four glasses of Scotch. What was I thinking?" She shook her head and sighed.

They came upon the theatre and walked to the side where Lily's window was. Spot and Lily then began to climb up the fire escape to the still open window that led to her room.

"So, this is my stop," said Lily giving Spot a slight smile. "I had a lovely time. I didn't think I would, but I had a lovely time. So, uh, thank you and goodnight."

She turned to climb back through her window, but Spot stopped her. "Wait," he said in a low voice, "ain't you forgettin' somethun?"

Lily looked confused. Was she forgetting something? What could she be forgetting? She stared at Spot while desperately searching his eyes and her mind for what he meant by his statement. Finally, she decided to ask. "Am I forgetting something?"

Spot nodded. He raised his eyebrows and licked his lips.

"Oh," she thought, suddenly realizing what he wanted, "That." Feeling somewhat embarrassed, she smiled slightly and cleared her throat. With an air of confidence that was forced and utterly false, she strode over to him, and gave him a shy kiss on the cheek. She turned to leave once more, but Spot stopped her again – this time by grabbing her wrist. He pulled her too him and kissed her passionately on the lips. A long, slow, wanting kiss. This time, she did not protest, but allowed him to his liberties.

When their lips finally parted. Lily smiled shyly and climbed into her window. Spot started to follow her, hoping for more. However, Lily halted him by gently placing her hand on his chest. She smiled sweetly once more, and softly, but firmly said, "Goodnight Conlon."

With that remark, she closed the window and the curtains and walked away. Spot lingered on the platform for a few seconds, smiling widely, before taking a deep breath and sighing. He shook his head, still smiling, and began to walk down the stairs.

Lily quickly changed into her nightdress, and unpinned her hair. Letting it fall gently, down her back, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was knotted, her eyes wild, and her smile would not let itself be banished from her face. She looked a fright, and wondered how anyone could bare to look upon her. Cross with herself for the four glasses of Scotch and the unladylike behaviour she could not remember but was sure she had exhibited, she began to run the brush through her long raven hair. "Josephine," she thought to herself, "what were you thinking? You weren't thinking…that's it. You weren't thinking and that is your problem entirely. You just went dashing off into the night with a strange boy to drink four glasses of liquor, dance like a heathen, and ultimately embarrass yourself."

After she'd finished smoothing her hair, she deftly fashioned it into a simply braid down her back, which she fastened with a simple white ribbon. Removing her wrapper, she turned down her bed, and crawled under the sheets. She settled into the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. After she got comfortable and began to drift off into slumber brought on by exhaustion, her last thought was that she regretted nearly everything that had happened that night. Everything, except for maybe that kiss. But somehow, she couldn't shake the feeling that the kiss would end up creating a world of trouble for her. Trouble that she did not need nor want.


~***~


As Spot walked home, he could not deny that he felt a great sense of elation- weightlessness even. He could have not created a more perfect evening if it he had fashioned it with his own hands. Lily, herself, had shaped up to be a great deal more than he expected. He had imagined her to only be some haughty prima donna of middle class breeding, whose pride derived from her status at the theatre. But she had shown a different side to herself that night – gleefully dancing and carousing with boys of Spot's status, downing alcohol, and kissing him.

He licked his lips and the taste of the kiss they had shared still lingered upon them. That kiss. It had signified the near-end of his conquest and he hadn't expected it to come so soon and so easily. Spot could never deny that he had a short attention span when it came to relationships. Usually, he would begin to lose interest in a girl the moment she gave him any piece of what he sought. For some girls, it was a kiss, for others…it was a good deal more. (He had even taken to rating his conquests by what he had gotten out a particular girl and how hard it had been to urge it out of her.) With Lily, he figured the best he could have hoped for out of someone of her status and breeding was a kiss. Now that he had obtained it, he strangely enough, did not find himself losing interest. He had earned one kiss, but he wanted more. More of her kisses, more of her time, more of that challenging look blended with slight amusement that she held in her dark eyes after he'd say something she didn't quite agree with….

What was this? Was Spot Conlon getting sappy about some girl? "Bah," he said to himself, "I'm turnin' into Mush. Better stop now while I'm ahead." With that, he came upon the lodging house and walked into its still dimly lit foyer.

"Heya Spot," a boy clad only in a pair of blue suspenders gray slacks greeted him.

"Heya Red," Spot responded.

"Ya had a good time tonight?" Red winked at Spot as uttered his question.

"Red?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"Knock it off while you're still ahead, will ya?" Spot playfully knocked Red's hat off of his head and closed the door behind him.