Fawkes heard approaching footsteps and made a face. She'd been in this cell for less than a day and she was getting two visitors? What was going on?

This visitor was less welcome.

It was Snyder with his pale face and his bowler hat, come to take her away.

Already? Fawkes tried not to get her hopes up.

There were no words exchanged as two guards came in to cuff the girl and cart her out of the cell. They half-dragged her down the hall, over some steps, and out into the muggy air of the courtyard.

Without ceremony, they tossed her into the wagon waiting there.

"Fox?"

"Jack?"

Fawkes had landed on the floor, on top of someone's feet.

She pulled herself upright as the mobile cage jerked forward. She couldn't see much. The wagon was fully enclosed, except for a few tiny barred windows that let in shafts of light from the streetlamps.

"What's going on?" She whispered as she crawled onto the bench beside him.

"Hell if I know."

The pair sat in silence.

Fawkes could sense Jack's mood. He was furious. She didn't want to say anything and ruin it. His temper was an asset.

After what seemed like forever, Snyder opened the door and Fawkes stepped out.

She'd never seen a place so regal. It looked like a palace. There were tall iron-wrought gates out front and the building was made of huge marble blocks. Everything was illuminated with the soft golden glow of lamp light.

Fawkes dared a look at Jack. She had a suspicion about their current location. She scarcely believed it. Why would Pulitzer bring them into his own house? To meet his enemy? To gloat about his victory?

The girl steeled herself for an encounter with another powerful man who was used to getting his way and siphoned off some of the rage that was filling her friend.

The pair were pushed into a mahogany parlor. A first glance revealed there was no one but them in it. Immediately, they began perusing, starting their inspection on opposite sides of the room. Fawkes's plan wasn't to steal anything, only to confirm her whereabouts. And maybe arm herself, if it was necessary.

A thin greying man wearing a crimson smoking jacket and spectacles was struggling down the stairs. Fawkes jumped to face him. She'd seen his face in the papers she sold. She was looking at none other than Joseph Pulitzer.

Across the room, Jack straightened. He'd been looking at a photograph. He was not shocked or surprised to see their host. "Evenin' Joe," Jack's voice was anything but friendly.

"I have it on good authority you two are the upstarts who are credited with leading the strike. A girl wanted for murder and a boy who steals."

"They say I have a magnetic personality," Jack was all sass. "I keep her around for protection."

"I haven't been charged with murder-yet," Fawkes spoke up.

Pulitzer pulled his narrowed eyes from Jack to her, "I have a lot of power in this town. I can send you to the electric chair. Or I could set you free."

"I'm not afraid of you," Fawkes replied simply.

"You should be." Pulitzer warned.

"What's all this about then Joe?" Jack's rage had dissipated into something easy-going. Further proof that if they lived through this, Jack was going to make a killer politician.

"Your strike will come to end. Quicker, now that you aren't around to control things. What comes next is up to you. You can either rot with Snyder for an eternity, or you can work for me again. I'll pay you well. Well enough that you can leave this city behind when it's over and make something of yourself if you choose."

Fawkes cocked her head to the side, "Are you trying to bribe us, Joe?"

Pulitzer ignored her. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'll let you sleep on it back at the House of Refuge." Now he paid her a glance, "I'd choose wisely. You can't count on the fact that your extraditions will overrule that murder charge."

Fawkes met his stare, "I don't want your money, Joe."

Pulitzer knocked on the door that had delivered the teens into the room. It opened and Snyder came in to retrieve the criminals.

Fawkes and Jack were silent as they were loaded back into the wagon. Fawkes wanted to say something. She wanted to talk out what had just happened, make sense of it in her mind, but somehow she couldn't.

Had Pulitzer threatened to kill her for her insubordination? That's what it sounded like. He threatened to stick her with a murder charge if she continued to support the strike. He would forget the whole thing if she rejoined the team.

She knew why. He was threatened. They were winning.

If they scabbed, they'd lose the support of the newsies, and the strike effort would crumble. She and Jack had been the backbone of this fight from the beginning. She knew what would happen if they were seen on the other side of things. That's what Pulitzer was counting on.

Fawkes wasn't going to play that game. She only took deals she believed in. She wasn't ready to be a turncoat. She had charges she was ready to face out west. She didn't think Pulitzer was bluffing about hitting her with a murder charge. She was fairly certain what she had waiting in Wyoming would overrule it. There were a lot of counts of cattle rustling to consider.

"I won't hate you if you take the deal," Fawkes said at last.

"What?"

"Pulitzer's deal," Fawkes sighed. What else was he thinking about? "I can't take it."

"You don't want to take it," Jack's voice was barely audible over the sound of the wheels clacking on the cobble.

"I can't," she repeated. "I've been skipping out on too much of my time. I'd rather spend it out west than here in the city. I think that's where they'll send me."

"You don't think Pulitzer's gonna squeeze you with that murder charge?"

"It's gonna be he-said, she-said, and I'm not going to win because it'll be the word of a former cattle rustler up against a cop. I don't think Pulitzer's gonna do it because it's you he's after. He knows I'm just a girl. He thinks I'm along for the ride. I think he was threatening me to get a rise out of you."

"That's foolish, you've got a longer rap sheet than I do. This is right up your alley." Fawkes could hear the smile in Jack's voice, even if she couldn't see it in the dark.

Fawkes laughed, "We know that, but what we know doesn't matter. It's what he thinks in the end."

"I'm not gonna take it either," Jack said.

"You ought to. You'll have enough money to get out of this city and make your own way west."

"Why would I do that if you're not gonna be there?" Jack nudged her with his elbow.

"You're not giving me enough credit. I will be," Fawkes pushed back.

A silence fell between them and then Jack said in a timid voice, "I don't think I can do it. To take everything we fought for and turn around and stomp on it, all for some money? It would crush the guys."

"We started this because we wanted change. Now we know how they keep it from happening. Maybe by taking on the whole city, we bit off more than we could chew. We weren't properly equipped for the situation. Pulitzer singled us out because we've got the most to lose. Maybe we can't change world, but he's giving you an opportunity to change your life."

"Why aren't you taking it then?"

"Because I'm too stubborn. It's about time I be a grown-up and accept the consequences for my actions. No more easy ways out."

"Except for when you jump ship when you go out west."

Fawkes shrugged, "Except for that. I've got a lot of charges against me. You've just got the one theft charge, whatever you haven't served and whatever they stick you with from the rally. You can still turn over a new leaf."

Jack shoved her, more roughly this time, "Because you're a hardened criminal, through and through."

Fawkes was silent. To get free she was going to need to break a few laws and she was okay with that. If she had any hope of making reparations, or becoming a better citizen, the notion should have her more ill at ease.

They said nothing more for the rest of their journey.

When the wagon stopped again, they were back in the courtyard at the House of Refuge.

Snyder helped to escort Jack to the boy's wing. "Officer Mackey, would you be so kind as to see the lady to her room?" Snyder asked over his shoulder as he departed.

Fawkes saw Mackey's bulk lumber forward and felt her mouth go dry as he answered, "Gladly, sir."

She was frozen in place. Too shocked to move. Too upset to notice Jack dig in his heels and turn to look.

Mackey dragged her into the building and to her room.

Who were they kidding? It was a cell. It had bars on the windows and a swatch of straw for a bed. Mackey opened the door while another guard undid her handcuffs.

Fawkes seriously considered making a run for it.

The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that she couldn't get out of the compound. Snyder would enjoy adding months to whatever sentence they gave. He would love her to give him a reason to stay.

Mackey pushed her into the cell as though she was nothing more than a sack of potatoes.

Fawkes stumbled, but the wall she ran into helped her to recover.

Mackey started to follow. The girl widened her stance, not trusting the look in her eyes. She was practiced now. She could certainly give Mackey a run for his money. She would gladly die trying.

"Mackey!" A voice barked. "This one's still in holding. You can't touch her till she's been charged."

Mackey glared through the open door, back at the officer who'd scolded him. He turned back and fixed Fawkes with a knowing look, "I'll be back for you, Connie."

He swung the door shut behind him and another guard locked it.

As soon as Fawkes could hear his feet marching away, she let out a ragged breath. She ran to the spot next to the door, so that when it swung open, she could hide behind it. It would give her some advantage.

When the adrenaline seeped out of her body, the girl sunk to the floor, trying to control her breathing.

This was exactly what she hated about enclosed spaces.