The next morning, Lunch Money was awakened far earlier than she cared for. She rolled over, the blast of Snyder's shrill whistle still echoing in her ears. Her heart sank when she realized where she was. Feivel leapt off of the bunk above Lunch Money. She gave Lunch Money a small smile and began dressing. Lunch Money felt even worse. Feivel and Tease had been caught too. She pulled herself out of bed with difficulty, and dressed as well. Around her, the newsgirls sat up too, all looking very dejected.
"What happened last night?" Lunch Money asked Nix carefully.
"What does it look like happened like night, Higgins?" Ritz snapped, ignoring the fact that Lunch Money was addressing Nix. "Ya wasted too much time up theah wit' the boys, and befoah we could get outta theah, the bulls found us out." She sneered, "Listen, I know it must a' been an excellent chance fa you an' Spot ta get reacquainted, but ya gotta remembeh when ya's on a mission."
Lunch Money glared at Ritz. In the last couple of days, Lunch Money wondered whether Ritz had changed towards her. She had been much nicer to Lunch Money—or, if not nicer, at least not as blatantly horrible to her. Leave it to Ritz; as soon as Lunch Money and Spot were once again in the same vicinity, she was back to being the bitch of the Brooklyn newgirls.
"Hey, I tried ta hurry," Lunch Money argued, "But Snydeh was hangin' around. I didn't wanna get caught."
"An' yet heah ya are."
Lunch Money didn't get a chance to respond, for at that moment, there was an impatient sounding knock at the door. The girls of the refuge hurried to finished dressing and a minute later, the door opened. Snyder walked in, in his usual hoity-toity manner.
"I'll be needing to have a word with Higgins, Barkley, Cohen, Matthews, Jackson, Kim and Hendricks." The Brooklyn newsgirls glanced at each other nervously. 'Having a word' with Snyder only meant one thing. They were going to court. They were going to be tried by some horrifically biased judge, and they would be found guilty. Lunch Money knew that's how it would all happen. It was the way of the world; the rich guys got the big chair in the important office, and the street rats got the jail cells.
The girls followed Snyder out of dorm. Several policemen joined them, assumedly to keep the girls in line and make sure they didn't run off. Not that they had anywhere to run. Snyder escorted them into the courtyard outside the refuge, and then into a horse drawn carriage. The seven girls, plus Snyder sat uncomfortably squished together, heading toward the courthouse. Lunch Money surprised herself by not feeling nervous at all. It was a forgone conclusion. Why even bother with the mockery of a trial Snyder planned to put on? Why not just shut the girls away for the rest of their natural lives? No trial, no fuss.
The carriage came to a stop, pulled up next the impossibly huge courthouse. Snyder led the girls out of the coach, and they scaled the marble front steps and passed through the handsome mahogany doors.
"Come," Snyder summoned the newsgirls imperiously, "This way, into the courtroom. And I think you will all be pleased to see some of your friends in there." He ushered them in. Lunch Money looked around curiously. It was her first time in the courtroom, shocking for a girl with such delinquent tendencies. Racetrack had always done his best to keep her out of trouble, so Lunch Money was fortunate enough to avoid any real trouble with the law, up until this point.
At the front of the room, a familiar group was clustered around the judge's stand. Her friends were there, along with the other Brooklyn newsies with enough guts not to sell out their friends. Spot was among them as well. Lunch Money's heart jumped up to her throat when she caught sight of him. Making a split-second decision, she nimbly ducked under Snyder's arm. She ran straight through the small crowd of newsboys, not even caring that her brother and all her friends were watching. Lunch Money reached Spot, wrapping him in a hug that practically knocked him over. Spot looked rather surprised at this, but quite pleased.
"Spot, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—" She whispered, reveling in the feel of Spot's arms around her once again. This was it. She had to tell him now. Lunch Money had put this off for far too long; she had hoped in the beginning that it would never come to this. But now Lunch Money wanted nothing more than to get this secret off her chest. Her heart had suffered enough in the past months without this weighing her down.
"Whaddya doin' heah, Lunch?" Spot asked, now looking into her face anxiously.
"We came ta rescue ya."
"Well done." Spot rolled eyes.
"Spot—" Lunch Money began, but Spot cut her off.
"Why didn't ya get outta theah aftah me an' Jack left? I told ya shoulda gotten out befoah Snydeh caught ya..."
"Spot!" Lunch Money said again, this time with much less patience. Spot broke off, his scolding interrupted. Lunch Money's voice had sounded urgent, and Spot knew from her tone that he should listen to whatever it was she had to say. And she had to say this. If she didn't, Lunch Money knew she would never forgive herself. Lunch Money looked him square in the eye, and said clearly, grinning as though she had only just realized it:
"I love you."
At first Spot just stared at her, looking like he hardly dared to believe what she had just said. Then he drew her into a deep kiss, much to the astonishment of the newsboys surrounding them, and to the consternation of the various officials in the courtroom. Lunch Money pulled Spot closer, and she thought she heard wolf whistles from the newsboys. And then Lunch Money could have sworn she heard Mush's voice smugly whispering to Blink, "See? Told ya so."
Lunch Money really wasn't sure of anything that might have been happening around her; she was gone. She was a million miles away from the courtroom. Maybe somewhere close to heaven.
The reactions of the newsies were as varied and colorful as their nicknames. Racetrack looked on awkwardly, guilt starting to form in the pit of his stomach. So Spot had been telling the truth after all. Mush, Blink and Crutchy were cheering excitedly, whereas Jack and Boots were positively dumbfounded. Ritz was fuming, of course. She was angrier than anyone had ever seen her. The thought that Lunch Money, the unsophisticated, horrid tomboy had been the one to win over Spot Conlon was more than she could bear.
Snyder looked around at the court officials, livid that none of them had made to put a stop this unsuitable display. The grown-ups of the courtroom (who should have been showing some authority) had come to a standstill. Nothing like this had ever happened in their chambers. Snyder stepped forward, trying to break up the crowd of newsies encircling Spot and Lunch Money.
"That's enough, you hooligans, this is a court of justice; I demand you keep order—"
Spot and Lunch Money broke apart, visibly elated by their own daring, and completely oblivious to everything around them. Neither spoke; they just stood close together, their fingers interlocked and their eyes drinking in each other's faces. It was surreal. Spot couldn't count how many times he'd imagined a scene like this. He thought back to first meeting Lunch Money, to his fear upon realizing his feelings for her, to his determination to keep it all a secret. Was this really happening? He was afraid he might wake up any moment.
Lunch Money couldn't believe it either. Less than a month ago, she had vowed to never let any of her friends know how she felt about Spot. She had told herself she wouldn't get mixed up in this like some prissy little girl. She had been too afraid. But as Lunch Money looked into Spot's gorgeous eyes, she realized that she was no longer frightened.
"Spot?" Lunch Money breathed, "I am sorry. I'm so sorry it took me this long ta tell ya that, I—"
"It's okay." Spot shrugged, smirking adorably, "I sorta already knew."
Lunch Money was rather taken aback by this. She had been horrible to Spot; how could he have figured out that she was in love with him. "How'd ya know?"
"C'mon, Lunch, we've had this conversation befoah." His smirk broadened into a true smile, "Ya got no pokeh face."
Lunch Money's laugh was cut short by a firm hand on her shoulder. Snyder roughly pulled her out of the circle of newsboys, away from Spot. The warden had had quite enough of this nonsense. Lunch Money tried to jerk away from Snyder, insisting she could walk herself, but the man pinned her arm behind her back, and twisted it painfully, dragging her back to stand with the other newsgirls.
"Now that this tramp is finished with that unseemly display," Snyder growled at the newsgirls in a low voice, "I have a proposal for you ladies. These boys will be tried for assault, resisting arrest, vandalism, and harboring other fugitives, among many misdeeds. You will either be tried with them, to your certain incarceration, or you get out of it." He paused, watching the girls' reactions. Lunch Money, Nix and Feivel glowered fiercely at him, but the other four looked vaguely interested.
"If you willingly sign a statement that we've already written for you, confirming that these boys in front of you were indeed involved with criminal actions, you will be granted amnesty and set free."
Ritz Barkley spoke up first, not even hesitating, "I'll do it. I'll sign whateveh ya gimme."
"What?" Lunch Money demanded, "Ya traitoh! Ya whore!"
Ritz didn't even dignify Lunch Money with an answer, and just shot her a malevolent grin. Tease and Rodeo followed Ritz's example, to the newsies horror, and the three girls were called to the front podium for their signatures. And then, to everyone's surprise, a fourth voice quietly sounded in the courtroom.
"I'll sign too." It was Starboard. Quiet little Starboard, the girl everyone liked, but never paid much attention to. She was selling them out.
"Star!" Nix gasped, shocked that one of her best friends should turn out to be a traitor like Ritz. Starboard merely shrugged.
"Sorry, Nix. All the newsies are goin' down anyway, whedder I testify or not. At least this way I'll keep outta jail, maybe go get a real job and forget all this useless fightin'. The newsies is oveh. Why bodder tryin' fix what we have no control oveh?"
Every newsie in the courtroom knew Starboard was speaking the truth. But, though they could see Starboard's reasoning, none of them could forgive the girls for selling out. It was the ultimate crime against newsies. Since the newsstands first hit the streets of Manhattan, the newsie brotherhood had crumbled. The disease had spread to Brooklyn, and now all that remained was a handful of street rats willing to fight for their rights.
"Sure you girls aren't interested?" Snyder asked the last three newsgirls, Feivel, Nix and Lunch Money.
"Neveh." Lunch Money snarled. Feivel and Nix nodded, their jaws set.
"Shame. I suppose you girls will be joining your friends in the refuge." He steered the girls to the front of the room to join the newsboys, who greeted the newsgirls gratefully. Two of the Brooklyn boys (Mezzo and Sweeps) hugged Nix, welcoming her into the fold; Kid Blink ruffled little Feivel's hair, giving her his famously bright smile. Spot slid his hand into Lunch Money palm, lacing their fingers together. They exchanged grim expressions, knowing what verdict would come.
The judge banged his gavel, asserting himself for the first time in that session. The newsies carefully watched the proceedings of the court, Snyder presented piece after piece of evidence and information against them. According to the laws of New York, all eighteen of them were dangerous delinquents that should be kept away from civilized society for as long as possible. And even though the verdict was exactly as everyone had expected, the hearts of the newsies still sank when the sentence was passed. Guilty.