Hey there everyone! Sorry for the lateness of my update. I've been really busy with work and getting ready for finals. Yuck! Anyway...on to the story!

SKITTERY: folds arms and glares at Jocky Ain't youse foigettin' sumptin?

What? What did I forget?

RACETRACK: sighs with exasperation Youse had some reviews...right?

Oh Yeah! Shout outs! Tumbler, would you like to do the honors/

TUMBLER: nodds excitedly Of course! Ahem...Tanks ta Claps, Aier of Mirkwood, Hawk Kelly, ElleestJenn, YellowGuitarPick817, and Shooter O'Brian for all youse help and reviews! We'se all loves ya for it!

Thank you, cutie! huggles Tumbler He's so cute! Oh, Spot darling, it's your turn

SPOT: Jockey don't own any of da Newsies or Shooter.

Thanks! Now, are there any other objections to getting to the story? silence prevails Good. Now onto the story! Oh and don't forget to review at the end throws candy to all readers.

Chapter Four

Rory suppressed a yawn from splitting her face in half as she sat on the lap of Horace Greenley. She gazed down from her throne at her subjects with sulking glares. She was not a morning person especially when woken up so annoyingly. What made her waking worse was that her temper had flown way out of proportion and beat Blink for no real reason. Thankfully, the boy didn't hold grudges and had a good sense of humor. She had apologized, and now they were good friends.

The boys had left her by the statue while they went to get their papers. Rory crossed her arms at the thought of being treated like a girl. That was why she climbed up the bronze statue to sulk. Sometimes being a girl wasn't as bloody brilliant as it was made out to be. Rory would have sat there pouting for the next half-hour or so if a vaguely familiar figure rounded an alley's corner and entered the square.

The girl had straight brown hair with natural highlights that came to her collarbone. From beneath the light blue cabby hat, her eyes gleamed with an impish light. What made a person take a second look at the girl was that one of her eyes was a beautiful shamrock green while the other was an amethyst purple with a small scar above it. She wasn't tall, but she was slender and athletically built. She wore a light green stripped shirt and black pants with holes in the knees.

"Bless me lucky stars!" Rory gave a shriek that could heard about the shouts and yells of the newsies and made the figure come to a startled stop.

Rory scrambled down the statue as fast as her skirt would let her. She leapt from the base of the statue to cobbled street and landed rather ungracefully on her butt. After a few seconds of nursing her pride and sore behind, Rory jumped to her feet and raced toward the other girl who stood there staring rather bewildered.

"Shooter, me bonnie lass! I haven't seen ya in ages!"

'Shooter' took one look at the crazy girl streaking toward her and let out a matching squeal.

"Trippah! Me goil has finally joined me in New Yawk!"

The girls met each other and threw their arms around each other. Their mouths were going a mile a minute switching between Celtic and English so fast that not even Snipeshooter could keep up with their conversation.

Tripper pulled back to give her old a friend a once over. Shooter had grown to be two inches taller than her friend. She still had the small birthmark on her lower right arm that looked like the Big Dipper.

"Trippah, youse haven't changed a bit! Well, me tinks youse gone an' growed proittier and goily. Youse looks jest likes ye's muddah. But, why's youse herah? I tought youse woin't eva goin' to leave Ireland."

Tripper blushed at her friend's blatant way of describing Tripper's blossoming from a gangly, frizzy redheaded tomboy to a slender, graceful, curvy tomboy. Shooter had a way of saying everything and anything that came to her mind.

"Thanks, I think. Ye's grown up right bootiful too, Shooter. I forgot 'ow mooch I missed ye after ye and Blake left to come 'ere. Speaking of the lad, were is me boy Blake?"

A look of complete sorrow and heartbreak replaced the happy mischief in her multicolored eyes. Bright tears accompanied the sorrowful look. Tripper was rather surprised at this show of emotions. Shooter never let people see her cry or show any emotions no matter how much she hurt. That had been back in Ireland when they were known notoriously as the toughest girls in town.

Shooter swallowed and blinked back the tears stubbornly. "I'se can't tell ya here. Wanna come wit me for a walk in da park? Or, are youse too busy wit youse brudda?"

Tripper looked over her shoulder at the small group of boys congregated behind them waiting impatiently with their papers. Snipes was tapping his foot annoyingly and giving her an evil look to which she answered with a scowl and murderous glare.

Turning back to Shooter who had gotten herself back under control, Tripper gave her a crooked grin.

"I 'ave time for a walk with ye. Me brothah and 'is friends 'ave survived without me for four years; one day more won't make a difference. Wait 'ere while I tell Snipes me plans."

Tripper spun around to approach her brother only to have her skirt wind tightly against her legs. The mixture of the constricting cloth and the speed of her movement was a recipe for embarrassment and disaster. With a surprised squeak, Tripper's excited face changed to one of surprise and embarrassment as she became formally introduced to the rough sidewalk.

She lay where she fell wishing the ground would just open up and swallow her. She could hear the sounds of suppressed laughter coming from the boys and outright guffaws coming from Shooter.

"Come on, Trippah. Da ground ain't up ta swallowing people taday." Shooter helped her friend up while still laughing and dusted Tripper off.

Taking what dignity she stilled possessed, Tripper turned to the crowd of boys who were dying from holding their laughter inside. She took one look at the faces that were turning purple and sighed.

"Go ahead den, lads. Let it out before ye's die from lack of breath."

They didn't need any more encouragement before loud guffaws and gasps for air filled the square.

Snipes wiped mirthful tears from his eyes before grinning at Boots and Les.

"An' dat's why we named her 'Trippah!'"

Tripper glared at her brother before linking arms with Shooter and walking off in the direction of the park.

"We will meet ye boys at the 'ouse later. Enjoy yer selling, lads!" Tripper threw this over her shoulder at the still gasping boys before disappearing from view.