"And then these big hoity-toity men in real shiny black suits come walkin' out like they own the building, and throw us outside. An' that other fella jus' walked away like it was no big deal!" Race pounded his fist on the desk angrily. They were inside Jack's office at The World, having come as quick as they could. Jack nodded distractedly, and held his latest political cartoon up to the trio of sweaty, dirt-faced boys. "Think I should add more ink?"

Race buried his head in his hands while he and Crutchie both groaned. "No, I think you should add in some listenin' powder, evah hoid o' that?" Crutchie muttered. Davey just sighed in exasperation. "Look, Jack, we know you're busy, but for god's sake, this is your wife we're talking about! Katherine!"

"And I've been listenin'!" Jack said, affronted. "I don't see what else we can do before she gets 'ere-"

"Before who gets here?" asked a testy voice just before the office door slammed shut. The boys all turned to see Katherine standing there in a rage. She held out the article from that morning's edition of The Journal. "Did you see this?" She demanded. "Jack, did you see what they wrote about me?! If any of you boys sold this today-"

"No!" The newsies interjected quickly. "We didn't!"

Katherine huffed. "Good! Because I'd like to personally take back every single copy of today's paper and shove it down William Randolph Hearst's throat!"

Davey, Crutchie and Race all eyed each other nervously, mentally asking who would speak first. Meanwhile, Katherine continued her tirade. She slumped down in the available chair miserably. "How did he even know it was me? I even made sure to wear a hat and everything when I went riding!" Jack took the paper and flipped to the page with the article. He burst out laughing. Katherine immediately jumped up. "If you think the arguments against women's rights is funny, Mr. Kelly, then you can-"

"No, it ain't that," Jack laughed again, pointing at the picture. "Ace-that ain't even you! That's Race, an' he ain't even in Central Park!"

Katherine glanced over, seeing the truth. Race leaned over and grinned. "I'm famous!"

"But for the wrong reasons," Katherine said dryly. "Anyways, this is outrageous! I'm a laughing stock to the greater public. Now how will I be able to ride my wheeler?"

"Maybe you should stop ridin' for a while, an' wait until this all dies down-" Jack tried to suggest, but Katherine leapt to her feet. "Stop riding? Are you suggesting that I bow down and do exactly what Hearst said to do?!"

"I ain't sayin' that, but-"

The office door swung open, followed by William Hearst Jr, or Bill, as he was most often called. "I heard about your trip to the office today, boys," he said briskly. "I'm sorry Mr. Sullivan was so rude. If I had known earlier, I could have helped. How are you, Katherine?"

"Fine," she said quizzically. "What trip to the office?"

"Oh-well, Race, Crutchie and I took a walk down to the offices of The Journal, and asked them to stop printing that article about you-"

"But they threw us outta there instead," Crutchie interrupted Davey. "So we came right 'ere tah Jack."

"But he said to do nothin' until you got here," Davey finished. "So here we are."

"What was the name o' the fella who threw us out?" Race asked Bill. "Mr. Oliver Sullivan," he answered in disgust. "And if he isn't one of the most greediest, stuck-up arrogant men I know, then shoot me."

"Stuck-up...that's it!" Race turned to Katherine. "He was sayin' some real nasty words about you tah Crutchie!"

"Yeah!" Crutchie remembered. "Mistah Sullivan asked if we was friends o' you, an' of course we is, so he continues wit'-"

"'Tell Ms. Pulitzer from me that no woman like her deserves to own a wheeler, let alone ride one. She's a loud, stuck-up busybody who believes in silly little things like strikes and women's rights. Tell her to fix her corset and go back to supporting her family with a decent job,'" Davey quoted.

Race and Crutchie stared at him. "How'd you do that?" Race asked. Davey shrugged. Katherine stared at him in disbelief. "He really said that about me?" she asked lowly.

The boys nodded nervously. Katherine stood up, her mouth set in a grim line. "This is the last time Hearst or anybody will say anything about me! I am not a 'loud, stuck-up busybody'! I deserve a chance to do the same as any other man can do, and that includes riding a wheeler and organizing 'silly little strikes'! I don't understand why that awful man brought you boys into this."

"Because he knows we're the only ones who can do something about this," Davey repeated for the second time that day. "He's challenging us, saying that if we don't stick for you, then we can't stick up for anybody."

"An' that ain't true at all," Crutchie said. "We's with ya, Katherine."

"Yeah, we's with ya," Race said.

"'Fix my corset', indeed," Katherine muttered. "Thank you, boys, but-don't you have papers to sell?"

"We can go wit'out food for a night," Race said casually. "As long as we's doin' somethin' good like helpin' you, then we's set."

"And Les is out there with Specs and the gang, so my family won't mind," Davey added. "I'm sure Sarah will love to know more about your wheeler, anyways."

"What do we do, Bill?" Katherine asked him. "Did you ask your father not to print this?"

"Yes," he started uncomfortably. "But he claimed that he took no responsibility for his editor's actions. And he added that it made a...very sellable headline."

"'Sellable headline', my foot!" Katherine replied. "He just wants to make a profit."

"I'll ask him again," Bill said quickly. "But if he doesn't stop printing it, what will you do?"

"I'll visit his office, and tell him that if he doesn't stop printing those slanderous lies about me, I will kindly ask my father to start printing the deeply hidden scandals that he has uncovered while visiting the Hearst mansion," Katherine said viciously, and Jack glanced up from his work. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"An' we'll ask all the newsies tah stop sellin' The Journal until Mistah Hearst stops printin' this," Crutchie asserted. "There's more than enough room over 'ere at The World."

"Thank you," Katherine told him, not for the first time that day. "Thank you, boys, I mean it."

"And if Mr. Sullivan gives you anymore trouble, tell me," Bill added. "He won't give us anymore trouble if Hearst stops printing that article," Davey pointed out. "Which he will."

Katherine nodded. "Thanks. Again. Now, won't you please go sell more papers? It'll put my mind at ease if you at least get food in your stomachs today."

"We 'ad bread an' coffee from the nuns," Race grinned, but he, Davey and Crutchie were already moving out the door. "Shoo!" Katherine called after them, shutting the door behind the trio. She turned to Jack with a slight smile on her face. "Thank you, Jack."

"My boys did all the work," Jack said, keeping his eyes trained on his cartoon. Katharine walked over to him, resting her chin on his head so she could watch him sketch. "And they did a very fine job of it, too."