Coughs were more frequent in the Lodging House this month. A sour cloud drifted over the newsies from dawn to dusk as they worried about their newest arrival. Jack in particular. He could hardly stand going out to sell newspapers when one of the first people he saw in the morning was his little friend, Crutchie, wrapped up in almost every single blanket the newsies could fine, sitting up on the couch and drinking water in between coughs.

"Take me with you, Jack!" he would beg. Jack would shake his head regretfully.

"Not today, kid." He always said that. "When you get better, I promise."

Crutchie would give him the big, pleading green eyes under the too-large-for-him plaid hat that one of the other boys had found for him. Jack would only sigh again, shake his head once more, and head out the door.

He would run back in at the end of the day, quickly unlacing his boots and running over to the couch where Crutchie was maybe still sitting up and having a bite to eat, or sleeping with a sickly pale face and sharp breaths. Jack would sit by him, wishing there was something he could do to help him feel better.

One night, he had an idea.

Jack had been feeling very put out that day, earning nothing more than about fifty cents. He plodded through the evening rain, his head filled with thoughts about the bright painting he had seen in a window by Miss Medda's theatre. He had squinted after staring at the brilliant bright reds, oranges, greens and yellows of the sandy scene, reading the caption that read 'SANTA FE'. Jack carried that image in his head all the way back to where he saw his little friend once again.

Crutchie coughed slightly.

"Hey," Jack started. "I was thinkin'…I saw this paintin' today. In a store window. An' it was really…beautiful! It said it was a picture of this place called Santa Fe, which is somewhere out west. It was all green and there was no city anywhere! The sky was orange and red and yellow, and there was this great big river running through it all. I bet that if I ever go there, I could do anythin'. So that got me thinkin', Crutchie…if we goes there together, we could do anythin'! You could run, and walk, and never get sick anymore, jus' because we'd be there! Away from this place. Away from New York."

Crutchie had opened his big eyes to look at Jack. "I wanna stay here," he said quietly, and Jack jumped slightly.

"What?"

"I wanna stay here 'cause yous here," Crutchie said a bit more firmly, and started to close his eyes to go back to sleep. "Don't go leavin' me, Jack."

Jack nodded. "I won't, kid. Promise."

The next day, Crutchie's fever abated.