Author's note: Thanks to Megan, Rabbit, and Rae Kelly for reviewing the first part of this fic. J You guys rock!

Jack heard the ruckus from four blocks away, catching faint traces of the argument as he sold a newspaper to a family with several young, redheaded children. He smiled politely at the stern-faced father as he handed him the paper and said, "Much obliged ta ya, sir," while mentally cursing his luck. Jus' when I find a great crowd, somet'ing had ta go wrong.

            "Hey." The small voice accompanied a tug on Jack's tattered shirt. Les gazed up at him with anxious eyes. "Is that-"
            "Yeah, we beddah go check it out," Jack replied before Les could barely begin his question. Spitting into the gutter, he pocketed the coin and the duo rushed off in the direction of the familiar voice. Jack glanced up at the startlingly blue sky and frowned. Whadda ya got against me, God, huh?

            A sizable crowd had gathered on the corner of 57th and Tenth. Furious shouts were emitted from the center of the throng. Jack, who had been praying that his hearing was deteriorating after years of accompanying Racetrack to Sheepshead Races, scowled irritably. A great way ta start a day, he thought facetiously and began to push his way through the crowd, Les at his heels like a faithful hunting dog.

            "What, ya t'ink New Yoik ain't got no uddah coinahs? Go find one of dem!"

            "Ya'll don't own the streets, you know! I can work heah if I damn well want to!"

            Jack furrowed his forehead in surprise at the unfamiliar voice, one that was thick with an irate Southern accent. Not anybody from Manhattan, he concluded, and unless my soices ain't correct, not from any of da oddah lodgin' houses around heah, eiddah. Damnit, what has Hades got herself inta?

            "Not unless I make ya go elsewheah!"

            "Are you threatenin' me?!"

            "Wow, dose ears of yours actu'lly do woik! Now use 'em when I tell ya ta get da hell away from my coinah!"

            "All right, that's it…"

            Fortunately, Jack had managed to force his way to the front of the crowd. At the sight of Hades and another girl prepared to thoroughly pummel each other, he darted between the two wild-eyed females. His action surprised them both, gaining him enough time to grab Hades's arms and pull her a safe several feet away from her adversary.

            "Kelly!" the newsgirl, struggling to break free of Jack's firm hold, exclaimed with nearly as much rage as she had flung at the other girl a moment ago. "What da hell are you'se t'inkin'? If ya is at all."

            "Do ya really wanna get t'rown in da Refuge?" he demanded harshly, a question that served to somewhat pacify her. He loosened his grip but stared solemnly at her. "A fight like dat coulda gotten ya a couple months for disordahly conduct or whatevah excuse dey wanna use."

            Hades sighed heavily and eyed him suspiciously for a moment, as though weight the truth of his statement against the pleasure of thoroughly soaking the other girl. Then she scowled and, yanking her arm away, looked to the ground. "Yeah…" she murmured, "I guess you'se right." She glowered at her opponent. "But I still say she gotta find a new coinah."

            As the crowd around them, disappointed in the absence of a brawl, dispersed, Jack studied the girl standing a few feet in front of him. Deep green eyes flashing dangerously and a violent frown seemingly carved into her fair skin, she easily stood out of the crowd. Her dark brown hair, which obviously hadn't been washed or even brushed in days, fell a few inches below her shoulders. She seemed to have gathered clothing from trash cans- a black skirt that might have been a petticoat once, an ebony shirt with the sleeves torn odd, and brown boots that had seen far better days. Jack furrowed his forehead at the tattered black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. He had seen elderly Italian widows in similar garb, and on this girl the garment seemed out of place. At her side was a young boy near Les's age, with the same features as the girl and a weatherworn leather bag slung over his shoulder. His chin stuck out stubbornly, as though he were prepared to defend his companion at all costs.

            "It wasn't like I was takin' away costumers or anythin'," the girl remarked with slightly more calm than she had originally possessed. "I mean, I could see if I was sellin' papers-"

            "Ya were distractin' ev'rybody," Hades debated.

            Jack raised his eyebrows, wondering what the girl could have done to cause such a disturbance. He opened his mouth to inquire about the nature of her actions, but the girl was already responding to Hades.

            "It's not my fault that everybody'd rather have their fortunes told than read about some fight in Congress."

            Hades's dark eyes were almost tinged with red, a sign that Jack knew could only lead to further shouts and flying fists. "I didn't say you'se was takin' away my customahs," she stated, affronted. "I jus' meant dat your shouts were gettin' mixed up wid my headlines."

            "And your weak, so-called headlines," the girl spat the words as if they were tomato seeds," were gettin' mixed up with my shouts."

            "Weak headlines?! Why I outta-"

            Jack swiftly reach out to hold the newsgirl back, hoping that there were no police officers nearby who might cause greater trouble for Hades than the strange girl. The young boy leapt in front of the girl and held up his hands as though for protection. He spoke softly and steadily, his words seemingly to appease her. She gazed up at Hades and rolled her eyes.

            "Have your stupid cornah, then. I'll find a bettah crowd," she declared and, taking the boy's hand, marched into the mass of pedestrians with her head held arrogantly high.

            Hades narrowed her eyes, watching the girl until she disappeared around a corner. Then, shaking her head, she turned to Jack with a thankful although slightly irritated expression. "I don't know wheddah ta t'ank ya or smack ya upside da head," she admitted petulantly.

            He chuckled warmly. "Glad ta be of soivice," he replied. "Who was dat, anyway?"

            "I dunno," she replied and shrugged. "Jus' some goil tryin' ta swindle da tourists outta deir money. Annoyed da hell outta me, dough."

            "The girl or the tourists?" Les, who until that point had been silently enjoying the spectacle, inquired curiously.

            She laughed heartily, her mood improving considerably. "Both, actu'lly."

            "Well, da tourists- and all deir cash- are all yours now," Jack remarked with a pleasant grin. "We'll see ya at Tibby's latah on, right?"

            "Right. See ya latah." With a final smile to her friends, she raised a paper at arm's length above her head and began shouting exaggerated headlines at the pedestrians strolling by.

            Seeing that he had done all that he could, Jack sauntered back to his original selling spot. Les, who waved his makeshift sword in the air and occasionally commented on how heroically he would have acted had the young dark-haired boy attempted to gang up on Hades, bounded at his side like an overly exuberant puppy.

            Well, the older newsboy thought as he listened to the cheerful prating of his accomplice, twenty-eight papes sold so far and one possible catastrophe avoided. Not too bad for a moinin's woik. He almost hoped that this was a sign of further agreeable things to come, but then stopped himself. Things never came easily for poor newsboys and he knew from experience that there was no use wishing for that to change.

To be continued…please review