The next morning, Harmony woke up to find a small breakfast in front of her. Looking for the culprit who was trying to soften her up, she found that all the beds occupants were unmoving. After taking one more glance, she nibbled on the bread, surprised to find it was fresh. Reaching for the glass of water she drew back gasping in pain. Some a dese injuries must be pretty bad, maybe I should take it easy. Harmony thought. For a few minutes she sat there staring at the water, very thirsty from the bread.

So close. Yet, so very far away! Eerrr! Da sun's not even up an' I'se already frustrated. Evil watah! Evil, evil watah! I'll just sleep an' deal wid dat watah latah. Hey, where's Jack? She wondered, just realizing that she was in his bed. Where would he sleep? He musta taken one a da other beds, and he's probably covered up so I can't see him.

Contenting herself that he was one of the immobile forms, she lay back and thought, It's not like he can go anywhere.

Shortly after the sun had risen, Jack was already out of bed. Pacing the floor of the Lodging House. He felt like a trapped rat. Spot had said he wasn't to leave the house, and he knew that that included leaving to sell papers. Jack could afford to miss selling for a few days, but he still wanted to get out there. No matter what reasoning Spot had, maybe he could get around it. He needed to sell papers to make a living. Yeah, dat'll be me excuse. Jack thought. But der's somethin' 'bout dat goil. I'se didn' know what ta tell Spot, but…oh…dis is so frustratin'. Ise'll have plenty a time ta figure it out doh.

Jack, happy with his conclusion, started getting ready for a hard days work when he heard Kloppman's footsteps coming up the stairs. Oddly enough, his were not the only feet on the steps, he was accompanied by three or four others. His first instinct was to run, thinking it was the bulls, but Jack knew Kloppmann wouldn't lead them up there without giving some kind of warning. The door opened revealing Kloppmann surrounded by three hostile boys who appeared to be brooding. Brooklyn.

"Cowboy, you know these boys?" Kloppmann asked. "They'se been waiting to see you for hours, but I didn't want them to disturb your sleep."

"You'se must be Spot's boys. Whats ya doin' heah dis oily? Ya must've left Brooklyn before you'se had time ta properly sleep," Jack reasoned.

"Spot wanted us ta git heah befores you'se had a chance ta slip out, an' we'se wasn't gonna take any chances disappointin' him." Said the tallest of the three, his eyes nervously flickering from side to side at the prospect.

"Well'se you'se got heah, what's he want?" Jack asked.

"He wants ta make shoah you'se don't leave da Lodging House, even ta sell papes," the same boy replied.

Stupid Spot, you'se always covers all da bases.

"He knows Ise'd nevah do anythin' like dat!" Jack shouted, trying to sound shocked.

"He knows exactly whats you'se was thinkin' so don't act shocked. Ta git introductions ovah wid I'se Caps. Dat der," referring to da shortest of the group, "is Smiste', an' he'se is Smokes, fer obvious reasons." Caps indicated the kid who was coughing with a cigarette in his mouth. "An' by da looks of it, you'se must be Jack. Spot told us ta listen ta you'se, but we'se makin' it clear, we'se don' like bein' pushed 'round, git it?"

It's going to be a long stay, Jack thought.

"Well'se whatevah you'se wants ta make clear, make clear ta someone who cares. I'se lettin' you'se stay heah as a favah ta Spot. I'se don't care nothin' fer any of you'se. Leave me boys 'lone, an' I'se pretty shoah I'se won't be havin' no problems wid ya. Dat clear ta ya?" Jack said, making sure they got his drift.

Caps, realizing that he had to be submissive to the leader while he was here, merely grumbled in assent. He wouldn't start anything, but he wouldn't go out of his way to be nice to a bunch of sissies.

"Where's will we be sleepin'?" asked Smister.

"You'se boys will be sleepin' 'n da beds 'n dat corner ovah der. An' I'se warnin' you'se right now, we'se got a goil stayin' wid us 'til she's healed up a bit, an' she's off limits ta everyone. Don' touch her or so much as even talk ta her unless you'se asks. She's a good friend, an' I'se ain't lettin' nothin' happen ta her."

"Whatevah," Smokes said between puffs. While he had been there, he had already gone through three cigarettes and was on his fourth.

"What are ya, some kinda chain-smokah? I'se don' wanna see you'se go through so many dose while you'se heah. Cut back 'r git out," Jack said.

"You'se some kinda control-freak?! Spot –" Smokes started.

Jack cut him off, "I'se don' care how Conlon runs his town. You'se 'n mine, an' I'se keeps me boys 'n line well enough my way."

By now, all three boys were glaring daggers at him. Kloppmann, who had been there the whole time, observing the conversation, realized it was past time to wake everyone up.
"Git up everyone, you'se late." Kloppmann yelled, shaking the boys then standing back. In two minutes he watched most of the boys rise from their beds like the living dead…but with tempers and bad breath…and those who didn't got rolled onto the awaiting floor.

Scattering to fulfill their morning preparations, hardly any of them noticed, or gave an indication that they noticed, the three brooding Brooklyn newsies in the center of the room.