Crutchie slowly roused from his restless sleep. Two pairs of arms held him up as he was dragged along a hallway. His eyelids were heavy and refused to open. He became more aware as they turned down a hall and then came to a stop. He heard keys rattling and then a door being opened. He braced himself, expecting to be thrown violently inside but was surprised when he was carefully lowered to the ground. Footsteps walked away, a door closed, and then the room erupted in noise. Crutchie forced himself to open his eyes. Rat was crouched next to him, a concerned look on his face, with other boys standing behind him, all looking terrified.

"What the hell happened to you?" Rat asked.

"Just spendin time with my good pals Bull and Charlie," Crutchie said, trying to ease the tension. But Rat didn't smile.

"Let's get you in bed," Rat said, helping Crutchie up and over to an empty bed. Though Crutchie wished he could fall asleep, his head was full of questions.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"Just about time for dinna," Rat said, leaning up against the bed. Crutchie had spent the whole night and day in that cellar. An entire day had passed while he had been beaten and unconscious.

"Where's Rover?" he asked, suddenly remembering that Synder had personally dealt with him.

"Snyda sure did a numba on him," Rat said, frowning. "But it's nothin compared to what's happened you the past couple of days."

"What about Bird?" Crutchie asked anxiously. "They tried to get me to tell about-"

"Bird's ok," Rat said, calmly. "You and Rover is good pals not to rat out Bird or nothin. We got word to him not to come back though. He had real important information 'bout the strike so he sent his little brotha here round lunch." Crutchie then remembered Bird mentioning something about a rally earlier that morning. Hopefully it had gone over well.

"What'd he say?" Crutchie asked, his broken leg throbbing painfully. He wanted to keep his mind off his painful body and to focus on the strike.

"It ain't good," Rat said, slowly. "You sure you want to hear this?" Crutchie nodded as pain shot through his leg again. Rat let out a heavy sigh before continuing.

"Everyone showed up to the rally this morning. The circulation center was packed, almost every borough was there. And so was Conlon, that was the important thing. Then Jack started talkin 'bout how they all had to stick togetha and it seemed to be going ok but…" Rat trailed off.

"Keep going," Crutchie said.

"Then Jack tried to get them all to quit the strike and come back to work," Rat said, rather downcast. "Said if they didn't come back now they wasn't eva gonna be taken seriously again. That's when they all found out he's been workin for Pulitzer. He and Conlon got in a fight and then Jack ran off. Everyone left after that." Crutchie's heart sank. He couldn't believe Jack, of all people, would start working for Pulitzer. Now that Jack had officially switched sides in the strike, it was over. There was no way they would win. Rat seemed to realize this too and said nothing more.

"How was his hand?" Crutchie asked out of nowhere. Rat looked up.

"What?" he said confused.

"Bird's brotha. Bird said he hurt his hand. How was his hand?" Crutchie asked.

"Didn't notice it much," Rat said shrugging. "I think it was wrapped up maybe." Crutchie nodded but said nothing more. After a while, Rat walked away and left Crutchie alone with his thoughts.

Crutchie didn't know what to think. If Jack Kelly was telling everyone to quit, then the strike would go nowhere. Even if no one listened to him, Pulitzer would never give into the strike's requests. Pulitzer had won Jack, that was all he wanted. He might even have his papers print an article about Jack, the newsie leader, switching sides. Then there was the fact that Jack was one of the few people with the charisma needed to lead a crowd the size of the newsies of New York. Davey might be able to do it with the help of Conlon, Racetrack, and their other friends but they didn't have the same effect on people the way Jack did. The strike was doomed.

Suddenly anger washed over Crutchie as he became furious with Jack for betraying the newsies, and he slammed his fists down on the mattress. How could Jack have left them like that? Was he really so desperate that he would accept Pulitzer's bribes? Maybe getting to Santa Fe was far more important to him than winning the strike, which made everything he said a lie. Everything he said to motivate his friends into starting the strike was a lie. He didn't care about standing up to Pulitzer and the Delanceys and Hearst. He was just in it for himself.

But something just didn't seem right about that to Crutchie. As mad as he was with Jack, he knew deep down that none of that was true. He knew Jack cared about the newsies more than anything. Crutchie knew Jack wouldn't abandon them unless it was for a good reason. Maybe Pulitzer was blackmailing Jack. But then why wouldn't he have told the others? Surely they would have understood. Crutchie was becoming more frustrated with being in the refuge instead of outside with his friends. He wish he knew what was going on.

Crutchie tried to push the strike from his head and attempted to fall asleep but found he couldn't. He instinctively looked for his crutch but realized it wasn't there. He would have to settle for sitting in bed and watching the boys around him. The boys in Rat's room were slightly older than the boys in the room Crutchie had been in before. Instead of running around and playing games, they mostly sat around, wrestling or telling jokes. Crutchie was suddenly amazed at the spirit of these boys. In spite of being in the refuge, they were still able to laugh and smile. In spite of their malnourished bodies, they were still able to rough house like young boys should. Crutchie told himself to always remember their bright spirits whenever things got tough.

Their meager dinner of cold vegetable soup, stale bread, and murky looking water arrived but Crutchie didn't care how it tasted. He hadn't eaten in over a day and quickly ate every last bite. As he drained his water, he looked around at the rest of the boys still eating and wished there had been more food. Almost as if he sensed this, Rat silently handed Crutchie his piece of bread.

"Rat, you don't hafta," Crutchie protested, pushing away Rat's outstretched hand.

"No, you take it," he insisted. "You needs it more than me. You gotta get your energy back up." Knowing this was true, Crutchie humbly accepted the piece of bread and slowly ate it, trying to savor each bite.

"Rat, how long have you been in here?" Crutchie asked him once he had finished the bread.

"Since I was ten," he said, scraping his empty bowl for any remaining food. "It'll be seven years in about a month."

"What did you do?" Crutchie asked, shocked to hear he had been there so long.

"Stole some food for my family," he said, setting the bowl on the floor. "Then I got involved into a few street fights for extra money. A policeman was at a fight once when he recognized me from stealin' some tomatoes the day before. Arrested me for theft and illegal fightin."

"That's horrible," Crutchie said. "Did they arrest the otha fighters?" Rat shook his head and sipped his water.

"The ring of fights is a very… shifty place," Rat said carefully. "Most people don't know 'bout it. I only found out cuz I got lost one night. But the fightas pay off the police and let 'em watch for free if they don't arrest 'em."

"Now I see why Jack wants to leave here," Crutchie mumbled to himself.

"Huh?" Rat said, looking up.

"Jack's always talkin' 'bout leavin' and goin' to Santa Fe," he explained. "Says he hates it here. He wants space and fresh air. I usta like it here though. There's neva a borin' day in New York. Always interestin' people walkin' around. Always somethin' to do. But now that I seen the refuge and how corrupt the police is and how they treat us…"

"Bet Santa Fe looks real swell, don't it?" Rat said, completing Crutchie's thought. Crutchie nodded and they sat in silence for another few minutes.

"But wait, they couldn't a kept you here for seven years just for fights and stealin' stuff," Crutchie said, breaking the silence. "That's a bit harsh."

"Well I mighta gotten some time added on," Rat said, trying to hide a sly smile from his face. "I was about a month from gettin outta here when Snyda came down hard on some random kid. I don't even remember what it was about. All I know is I kinda sorta jumped Snyda to protect the kid." Crutchie laughed.

"You jumped Snyda?" he repeated.

"And let's just say that wasn't the first time eitha," he said, smiling as he drank his water again. "Probably got an extra three years cuz of it all. But then my pop came to visit once. Said I had to behave real well from now on. My ma's been sick and he's worried 'bout her. Wants me to get outta here so I can get back to work and get money for a docta. So I stopped fightin. I think I got anotha few months and then I'm done."

"Is your ma still stick?" Crutchie asked. Rat shook his head sadly.

"She… she died," he said, looking away from Crutchie. "But I still gotta get outta here. Gotta help my dad take care of the resta the family."

"I'm sorry, Rat," Crutchie said, feeling like he had asked too many questions. "My ma died too. When I was born. I didn't know her but I know she was nice. I know that much."

"If she was anything like you, I'm sure all she cared about was otha people," Rat said, a small smile on his face. "I'm sure she put everyone else first, just like you."

Crutchie felt better than he had in days just by talking to Rat. It was something about having a normal conversation that didn't have anything to do with the strike or Crutchie's injuries. A few minutes later, Rat and Crutchie were interrupted by a boy asking Crutchie to arm wrestle. The boy looked to be a year or so younger than Crutchie and clearly thought that because he had a gimp leg that he would lose. Crutchie gladly accepted the boy's challenge. The room laughed when Crutchie slammed the boy's arm down to the floor with hardly a struggle. What Crutchie lacked in leg muscle, he made up for in arm muscle. Years of walking around on his crutch and pulling himself up onto things that he couldn't climb using his legs had earned him a muscular upper body. They spent the rest of the night arm wrestling Crutchie, seeing if there was anyone who could beat him. Although Rat and Crutchie struggled for a few minutes, Crutchie eventually came out as the winner. Their cheers were cut short when the lights suddenly turned off.

Rat let Crutchie have his bed as he settled to take the floor next to him. Crutchie's good mood began to fade, though, as he lay in bed in a dark and silent rooms. Thoughts of the strike came back to him. No longer having any distractions, the pain in his broken leg became more noticeable. The burns on his chest stung painfully. He tried to push the negative thoughts from his head but failed. All he could think of was his broken leg and the abandoned strike. Then he remembered the boys earlier that night. He remembered their free spirits as they wrestled and laughed. And just like that, Crutchie smiled and drifted off to sleep.

Then Crutchie found himself slowly waking up to a tapping noise. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking around the room for the source of the sound. It was coming from the window. He clumsily stood up from the bed, without his crutch, and hopped to the window. In the dim light of a barely risen sun, he could see Bird's smiling face. Crutchie quickly opened the window.

"What are you doin' here?" he whispered, trying not wake the others. "If Snyda catches you-"

"It don't matta if he does cuz somethin big is happenin," he said excitedly, his loud voice echoing through the room. Crutchie clapped his hand over his mouth and looked around the room. He heard a few boys turn over or mumble in their sleep but it seemed no one had woken up. Then he saw a groggy Rat sit up from the floor.

"What's goin on?" he asked confused. "Crutchie, whatchu doin?"

"Nothin, Rat. Just go back to-"

"It's about the strike," Bird blurted out, Rat realizing Bird was there.

"Bird, what are you doin' here? You ain't supposed to be here," Rat said worriedly, quickly joining them at the window.

"It don't matta anymore," he said, grinning broadly. "The strike is back. And it's makin it's final blow."

"What?" Crutchie said. "But I thought your brotha told us-"

"Yeah he did, but the tables is turnin," Bird said, gesturing for them to climb out onto the fire escape. Once they were outside, they could talk more freely.

"Kelly was blackmailed into workin for Pulitzer," Bird said, confirming Crutchie's thoughts. "It was eitha work for him or go to the refuge and the boardin house would get shut down. That's why he was tellin' everyone to quit. But then he decided he couldn't stand workin' for Pulitzer and teamed up with one of The Sun's writers."

"Katherine!" Crutchie said excitedly. He knew he liked her.

"Yeah, that's the one," Bird said. "She wrote this article all about the horrible conditions all the kids in New York work in and how important the strike is not just cuz it can help improve things but cuz its kids finally takin' a stand. They spent all night makin' copies of it on one of Pulitzer's old presses. Can you believe that! On Pulitzer's own press!"

"Then about fifteen minutes ago I got woken up by Conlon," he continued. "I told him where I was stayin' in case anything else with the strike happened. He told me they was all gatherin' in about thirty minutes. We's gonna help 'em make more papes and to pass 'em out in the mornin! The entire world's gonna know about this strike!"

"Maybe not the whole world but all of New York sure will," Rat said happily.

"Does this mean we might win?" Crutchie asked Bird.

"From what Conlon told me 'bout what's in the article, there ain't no way we can be ignored," he said. "Once we's all done passin' out the papes, we's gonna meet in the square outside Pulitzer's office. Everyone's gonna be there, not just newsies. Everyone who reads the article. Every parent of every kid that hasta sell papes or work in factories. I'm gonna be there too, with my brotha on my shoulders. There ain't no way we can lose."

They were suddenly hit with sunlight and became aware of the rising sun. The guards would be coming to wake them up any moment now. Rat and Crutchie watched as Bird safely ran out of the refuge and out of sight. They climbed back in, knowing that they were about to face another day of being abused. But nothing could extinguish the fire within them. They both knew the strike would be over soon.