I arrived in New York, two weeks later. I wandered away and soon met a group of boys who were sitting and waiting for something. One of them came over and said, "'Lo Miss. I'm Jack Kelly and these are my friends—Crutchie, Davey, Les, Tommy Boy, Buttons, Henry, Romeo, Finch, Specs, Kid Blink, and the rest of the Manhattan newsies."
They waved to me and I waved shyly back. "What do newsies do?" I asked.
"We sell papes," Jack answered.
"Papes?" I asked.
"Hawk headlines," Crutchie added.
"Newspapers," Davey translated. "Hawking headlines—see a headline in the pape, like it, use it to sell said pape."
I grinned and said, "I'm Rella."
"Join us—be a Newsie," Jack suggested.
After I sat down next to him, Crutchie poked me and asked, "So are ya an orphan or a runaway?"
I looked at him and, grinning, said, "Um, both, actually."
The others grinned and hugged me and clapped me on the back. Jack handed me a quarter. "We'll start you at fifty papes, got it, kiddo?" Jack seemed to be the undisputed leader.
I nodded agreeably and added, "I'll pay you back."
Jack nodded in response. Thankfully he was smart enough not to waste his time arguing with me.
