The next morning, Adelaide met Tumbler and Skittery on their usual corner of Broadway and Houston. Every morning, Skittery would buy their papes, and Adelaide would get breakfast for them. They would settle up at the end of the day.

Adelaide grinned when she saw Tumbler with Skittery that day.

"It's all my fault," Tumbler said as they cross the street to meet Adelaide.

"No, it's not." Skittery put his arm around Tumbler. "He made his choice both times."

"Trouble with Snipes?" Adelaide asked, handing Skittery his pastry. She broke hers in half and handed half to Tumbler.

Tumbler didn't say anything, just took a big bite of his breakfast. Skittery gave Adelaide a look that said he'd tell her later.

"Nothin' to worry about," Skittery said, overly casual.

"So how's the headline today?" Adelaide lightly nudged Tumbler.

"Vee haf uh feel," he says, his mouth full of food.

Adelaide chuckled. "Now that sounds like quite the news story."

Tumbler grinned and finished chewing. "We have a fire. Front page."

"Well, we should be eating good tonight, then."

He quickly finished his pastry and grabbed a stack of papers. He walked down the street, shouting headlines, some real, some not so much.

"So what happened?" Adelaide asked Skittery as she picked up her own stack of papers.

Skittery sighed and picked up the remaining papers. "Last night when Tumbler was getting ready for bed, Snipeshooter put snow in Tumbler's bed." Skittery saw the mama bear coming out in her, because he quickly added, "don't worry, I squashed it. Just listen."

"Okay."

"Tumbler walked back into the bunk room, saw his bed, and ran out the window to the roof. When I came in, the fellas told me what happened. I told Snipeshooter that I was going to get Tumbler, and by the time I got back inside, he was going to be out of his bunk because that's where Tumbler would be sleeping."

"Please tell me he was in his bunk when you got back and you grabbed him by his collar and threw him down the stairs."

"Easy, girl. And no. I went to the roof, got Tumbler inside, and by the time we got in, Snipeshooter was gone."

"Good."

"No, Aide. I mean gone. He's gone. No one has seen him since last night."

"Wait…really?"

Skittery nodded. "We're all worried about him."

Adelaide rolled her eyes. "Well, good riddance."

"He may not make the best choices, but he's still one of us, Aide."

Adelaide sighed. He was right. She hated Snipeshooter with every fiber of her being, but he was still a newsie, and newsies have to stick together.

"Where do you think he went?"

Skittery shrugged. "We hope he's just up in midtown coolin' off."


Snipeshooter sold his last paper and pulled out a cigar stub he'd swiped from Racetrack before he had left the Manhattan lodging house. He walked towards Poplar back to the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House.

"Stupid bitch and her whiny brother," Snipeshooter muttered to himself as he pulled his coat closer around himself, bowing his head against the snow. "I don't need no one lookin' after me, and I don't need no big sister givin' me grief for doin' what hundreds of men do every day. I shouldn't have to give up my bed just coz some brat can't keep his mouth shut. He's a newsie now. He needs to know what that means. Means you keep quiet about stuff that happens. He ain't gonna grow up with any friends if he's just a snitch all the time."

"Got yourself an invisible friend, there?" said a voice.

"Huh?" Snipeshooter snapped his head up and saw a young man in front of him. The man looked around 17, although he spoke with a tone that indicated he was a few years older. He wore clothes that were once fine, but had clearly seen better days. He had the air of someone who lived life on the street. "No, just...talkin' to myself."

The man nodded. "Got troubles?"

Snipeshooter just shrugged. "Just the fellas I live with. They're all stupid. They just don't know what livin' on the street is all about."

"And you do?"

Snipeshooter jutted his chin out. "Been on my own since I could walk."

The man chuckled. "A man after my own heart." Snipeshooter stood up a little straighter after being called a man. The man held out his hand. "Ralphie Valentini."

Snipeshooter's eyes widened. "You're Ralphie Valentini?"

Ralphie nodded. "Last time I checked."

"But you're in charge of Brooklyn."

Ralphie chuckled. "I wouldn't say I'm in charge of Brooklyn...but people listen when I talk, that's for sure."

"You're the only person Spot Conlon is afraid of."

Ralphie sized Snipeshooter up. "You afraid of Spot Conlon?"

"He's the most famous newsie in all of New York."

"Yeah? What do they say about him?"

"They say he sells over 200 papes a day, and all the Brooklyn newsies do what he says. And them Brooklyn boys are big."

"That's all true," said Ralphie. "And you know why they do what he says?" Snipeshooter shook his head. "It's coz if Spot says to do somethin', it's because I told him so."

"Wow…"

"Where you from, kid?"

"Manhattan. Lower East Side."

"Jack Kelly's boys?"

Snipeshooter nodded.

"And they're givin' you trouble?"

"Well, not really them. Just Tumbler and Aide." He rolled his eyes at her name. "She's always getting us in trouble for doing nothing."

"Aide?" Ralphie furrowed his brow.

"Yeah," Snipeshooter rolled his eyes. "Adelaide Taylor. She's the pain in my side right now."

Ralphie nodded slowly, looking across the river. "I see."

The snow began to fall in heavier flakes and Snipeshooter shivered. Ralphie looked back down at him.

"Where are you staying' now?" asked Ralphie.

"The boys house on Poplar."

"Why not come stay with me and my boys? It ain't as nice, but it's free."

"Really?" Snipeshooter grinned, the idea of getting on Ralphie Valentini's good side and a free place to stay overshadowing any trepidations he might have normally had.

"Sure," said Ralphie, walking away from the river. "We take care of our own and we all know what it means livin' on the streets."

Snipeshooter didn't even look back towards Manhattan as he followed Ralphie down the street.