Who's whose father? Part 3.

Snider is walking through the city trying to think of a way to get Pulitzer back, when suddenly he runs into Knuckles. Knuckles is a deadly ringleader of a cult that has been terrorizing the city for years. Snider was suppose to find him and put him away but Knuckles was just too good.

Snider stop him. "You knuckles?" he asked him.

Knuckles studies snider. "What business you got with knuckles?"

Snider grins. " Well you see, Knuckles is awfully famous 'round these here parts and a lot of people would like to catch him. I have a proposition to make with him, to make it so he'll never have to worry about being caught again."

This peaked Knuckles interest. "Oh yeah? What's this proposition?"

"Depends, are you Knuckles?"

"Why don't we go to some where more…quiet." He grins at him. Knuckles led him to an abandoned warehouse. He closed the door and turned to Snider cracking his knuckles. "I'm his informer. You tell me, I tell him. Knuckles don't hear from no body but me. So tell me."

Snider was a little uneasy but he hid it well. "Well then, you tell him I want him to kill Pulitzer and in exchange for that, I'll make him a free man without no one chasing him."

Knuckles considers this. "But what if he gets caught?"

Snider grins glad that Knuckles was interested. "Don't worry. You won't get caught."

Knuckles raised his brow at him, when he referred to him being Knuckles, but didn't say anything. "How can you insure that?"

Snider laughs. "Because I'll be the one protecting him. I'm Chief of Police. I investigate things. I can cover it up."

Knuckles considers this again. This was getting him anxious for blood it had been awhile since his last victim. "I'm sure he would agree. He'll send you a post card in an hour at the crossroads."

Snider nods, his spirits lifting at the thought of this happening. "You better be telling me the truth."

Knuckles grins evilly "What are you gonna do about it." He then ran off, laughing like a hyena before snider could say anything more.

Meanwhile Spot the spirit sat glumly on the Manhattan statue, watching the newsies through the window at Tibby's. "There's got to be a way to get their attention." he though out loud to himself. He then saw a shining light and looked up. When the light finally dulled to wear he could actually see through it. He saw a Beautiful lady in a roman outfit, a Halo above her head. Spot sat there gawking at her.

The angel smiled at him. "Close your mouth Spot. It's not polite. And sit up
straight, slouching is not permitted."

Spot shut his mouth quickly and sat up. "Who are you?"

She smiled at him again. "I'm the roman angel and you've called upon me." She makes a face. "And at a very bad time, might I add. We were just about to make the wine. It's my favorite part." She shakes her head. "Now what is your problem?"

Spot, who was completely confused, raises his brow. "Problem? I ain't got no problem."

The angel shook her head. "You don't have a problem, not you ain't got no
problem. You can speak perfect English, now use it."

Spot frowns "I do?" He blinks and shrugs. "Yes ma'am." He blinks again. "Wow it really works" he grins.

The angel smiles and gets back to business. "Now what is this about you not being able to give your friends messages?"

Spot sighed in frustration. "I can't get their attention. I go right through them
and they can't hear me either."

"Well that is because you're not trying. You have to do it through the heart. See watch,' she picks up a kitten that was sitting on the statue also, licking its fur. 'Now you try it."

Spot tries it, but his arms go right through the cat. He sighs and grumbles. The angel shakes her head. "You're going to have to try harder. This is something I can't teach you. You have to learn it for yourself. Now I must go. I have already told you how to do it. You learn how to make it affective. Just remember, use your heart." She smiles and kisses his forehead, then fades away. " Bye Spot." He heard faintly.

Spot was still very confused. He waves at the angel and continues to think.

Meanwhile...

Race wakes up holding his head. "What the hell happened?" He said confused. Then he hears a groan next to him.

Denton wakes up rubbing his head, feeling the bump there. He looks around confused. "Where am I?"

Race looks around also and the dark room. "It looks like a dungeon, but how'd we get here?"

Denton shrugs shaking his head. "I have no idea." Somewhere from the shadows they hear someone walk up to the door. A guard comes with some food and shoves it under the bars.

Denton scrambles to his feet going to the door and grips the bars. "Hey Mister,' the guard stops and turns back to him. 'Can you tell us where we are?"

The guard laughs "You're in Pulitzers basement." He then turns and walks away.

Race stands up and crosses his arms, growling. "This is all your fault. Ha! Some King of the World now, eh?"

Denton swings around and glares at him. "No, you said you were King of the World, so don't blame this on me, this is all your fault."

"Why you little… Come 'ere you dirty rotten scabba!" Race jumps on Denton and they start rolling around.

To be continued...