Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.


Chapter 49: On Top of the World

Joseph Pulitzer sat behind his desk, coiled up like a snake in its den. His eyes narrowed into slits, and Davey fought the urge to look away as the newspaper owner's cold gaze swept past him before settling on Jack, who returned the stare with what appeared to be equal parts defiance and disdain.

They'd burst into Pulitzer's office only moments ago, brushing past all who'd tried to stop them, and had abruptly interrupted the man in the middle of a meeting with his secretary and bookkeeper. As soon as the newspaper owner had caught sight of Jack, his expression had darkened, and he'd brusquely waved off his staff before turning his full attention to the newsie leader, poised and ready for the final showdown.

"So, Mr. Kelly," Pulitzer folded his hands, resting them on the desk, "it seems that you've reneged on our deal. I should have known that you'd fail to hold up your end of the bargain."

Davey could hear the anger in the man's tone, and he felt his shoulders tensing even as he saw Spot shift beside him. They had Pulitzer backed into a corner...but that didn't mean that he couldn't lash out.

"I thought the better of our little agreement, Joe," Jack shrugged, pulling a stack of bills from his pocket and tossing it onto the desk where it landed with a dull thump. "I'm a man of my word, though, so there's your money back - not a dollar missin.'" He gestured to Pulitzer's bookkeeper. "Feel free to count it, if ya want."

The balding man shot a glance at his boss, who gave him a curt nod. Then it was silent for a moment as the bookkeeper quickly thumbed through the stack before quietly confirming that the money was, indeed, all accounted for.

Pulitzer seemed displeased at this.

"And what, exactly, do you hope to accomplish by pulling this little stunt?" he queried.

"Oh, see, I wouldn't call it a stunt, Joe," Jack objected. "I dunno if you happened to look outside your window this mornin' or not, but if you did, you would've seen a crowd of workin' kids stretchin' on for blocks and blocks, protestin' right outside of your front door. And then you'd realize that we's dead serious about this, Joe. It ain't no game we's playin' at here."

Reaching into his vest pocket, Jack pulled out several folded-up copies of The Newsies Banner. "If you wanna see what was circulatin' through the city overnight while you was countin' sheep, here's a look." He handed a copy to Pulitzer, who snatched it without a word, scowling as he raised his spectacles to his eyes.

"Don't be shy, gents!" Jack exclaimed, affably offering copies to Pulitzer's associates as well. "There's more than enough here to go around."

Having discharged all three of the available papers, he crossed his arms, rocking back on his heels and grinning at Davey and Spot with a look that clearly said he was enjoying this visit to Pulitzer's office far more than his previous venture.

"This isn't half bad!" one of the men exclaimed as he scanned through The Newsies Banner. His enthusiasm was immediately squelched as Pulitzer glared sharply at him.

"No doubt my daughter's handiwork," he said irritably. "I demand to know who allowed this paper to be printed!" His eyes swept around the room, clearly suspecting a traitor amongst his staff, but all of them appeared to be completely confused. "Didn't I make it crystal clear that there was a ban on printing strike material?" Pulitzer demanded.

He slammed his hand down hard on the desk, and everyone jumped a little.

"That might've been the case, Joe," Jack answered, recovering quickly. "But seein' as you don't make it a habit of sharin' your plans with little guys like us, we can't be expected to read your mind now, can we?"

Pulitzer said nothing.

"But since you's wantin' an answer," Jack continued, sauntering closer to the newspaper owner's desk, "I can tell ya that we printed our papes on the one printin' press that I knew how to get to." He paused, letting the unspoken question hang. "You remember our last meetin', Joe, and that 'little stunt' you pulled lockin' me in your cellar, huh? Well it turns out, you got an old printin' press down there that still works. So I guess I oughta thank you for that helpful piece of information - it sure came in handy. Hey!" he smirked. "How's this sound for a headline: 'Pulitzer's Very Own Printin' Press Brings Him Down.'" Jack chuckled. "Pretty good, huh?"

Careful, Jack, Davey thought anxiously. It was one thing to tell it to the newspaper owner straight; it was another thing to purposefully antagonize him, and while Jack's gloating - especially considering all that he'd gone through at Pulitzer's hands - was completely understandable, they were still up against an enemy that they couldn't afford to underestimate.

Pulitzer finally uncoiled himself and rose, walking deliberately around his desk to stand nose-to-nose with Jack.

"I offered you a more-than-generous deal, boy," he growled. "A pardon for your criminal offenses. Enough money to have a fresh start. The prospect of a life off of the streets! In throwing that away, you've consigned yourself to a fate of worthless obscurity!" His eyes narrowed and his voice dropped, though it lost none of its venom. "You might have your ten minutes of fame now, Mr. Kelly. But once the strike's over, who will you be then? The same worthless, dirty gutter-rat that you were before this all began!"

Jack didn't respond to the newspaper owner's rancor, but Davey saw his jaw clench in anger, and the sudden gleam in Pulitzer's eye made it clear that he had the barb hit home, too.

The older man began circling his prey, his voice modulating just slightly. "Oh, maybe that reality doesn't mean much to you right now," he allowed. "All you've known is a life of abject poverty, after all. And that's all well and good when you're only looking out for yourself and for that rag-tag group of ragamuffins." He stopped circling and came to a stop in front of Jack. "But what of the future?" he asked quietly. "What of life outside of the newsboys? I know they're not the only ones you care about."

He let the insinuation hang, its implication becoming clear as he added, "You may have your family, boy...but don't think for a moment that you can have mine."

Jack swallowed hard. "Katherine ain't - "

"Katherine ain't as simple and naive as you take her for," Pulitzer interrupted mockingly. "She may have taken a passing fancy to you with this strike business giving her career the boost that she was looking for, but she'll soon realize that your blustering charisma and short-lived fame can't hide the unfortunate reality that you're absolutely unfit for her, and that there are others far more well-resourced to give her the life that she deserves." He smiled. "You've no money, Jack. No ambition. No prospects of ever amounting to anything." The smile was accompanied by a condescending shake of the head. "It's really too bad."

Davey's alarm grew as he watched Jack's composure begin to unravel at Pulitzer's scornful words. The balance of power in the room was beginning to shift towards the newspaper owner, and while the newsboys still had the upper hand, Jack was going to have a difficult time negotiating with Pulitzer if he let the man get to his head. It had been an unsportsmanlike move, bringing up Katherine like that...but then again, the rules had never been fair in this game that they were playing. They should have known better. They had let their guard down, and the snake had struck.

Say something! Davey told himself frantically. He had to distract Pulitzer, to get his attention off of Jack so that the newsie leader could recover.

"What's all that got to do with anything?" he blurted out. He knew what Pulitzer was trying to do, but a little feigned ignorance could buy Jack some time, and besides, they really ought to get back to discussing the strike (if there was one thing that Davey had very little patience for, it was going down mostly-irrelevant rabbit trails while leaving the pressing questions unanswered).

Pulitzer looked at him in surprise, as though he was registering his presence for the very first time.

"You talk about the future," Davey continued, his voice wavering nervously, "but you aren't even acknowledging what's unfolding right in front of your eyes. Ever since the strike began, your circulation's been down, and if this continues, you're going to feel it soon - today, even! The entire city is at a standstill, and until you agree to negotiate with us, we'll just keep gathering support until you can't ignore us anymore. So if you care about the future, Mr. Pulitzer - the future of your newspaper, if nothing else - you ought to be listening to Jack instead of trying to bait him. You might not think that you need us, but the fact is, you do. It would be foolish for you not to act in your own self-interest - "

"And it would be ill-advised for you to keep running your mouth," Pulitzer cut in, giving Davey a disdainful look. "I did not agree to discuss this in a committee."

"Well, you's gonna have to discuss it with me, then," Jack said, having gathered himself enough to re-assume control of the situation. "Davey's right - you ain't seein' the truth of what's goin' on here. Maybe you think big-shots like you don't haf'ta talk with little guys like us…" he gestured to the window, "...but in case you forgot, just have a peek out there. You's gonna see that we've got you surrounded."

Pulitzer stalked over to the largest window and looked out of it.

"A beautiful sight, ain't it, Mr. Pulitzer?" Spot intoned, grinning wolfishly. "Nothin' but the First Amendment freedom to assemble as far as the eye can see."

The newspaper owner turned away from the window.

"You might think that ain't bad enough," Jack conceded, cocking his head in Pulitzer's direction, "but just wait 'till all of the city leaders start poundin' on your door, blamin' you because they can't send a message or ride an elevator or cross the Brooklyn Bridge." He smirked. "Sure wouldn't want to be in your shoes then."

"It's true," the secretary interjected. "They've been calling all morning, everyone in high dudgeon and using such atrocious language!" Pulitzer glared at her, and she fell silent, but before anything more could be said, a commotion was heard in the hallway.

Everyone turned to look just in time to see the doors of the office burst open, and in strode -

"Governor Roosevelt?" the newspaper owner growled.

It was, indeed, the governor, flanked by Miss Medda and Katherine (who had clearly been successful in her quest to bring the powerful politician to the newsies' aid). Jack had an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes as he watched them enter the room, and as Katherine returned the look with a determined smile, Davey felt himself relaxing as he observed their wordless exchange. After Pulitzer's belittling jabs, Jack could use some reassurance just then, and Katherine's presence would likely put things to rights.

"Joseph, what's all this about?" Governor Roosevelt chided, as though he was questioning a small child about the disorderly state of his playpen. "It seems that you've made quite a mess of things!"

"There's a reasonable explanation for all of this," Pulitzer blustered.

"Reasonable?" The governor barked a laugh. "Is that what you'd call it, Joseph? Reasonable?" He motioned to the ladies beside him. "Thanks to these two bringing the situation to my attention, I can easily say that I disagree with you on that assessment. In fact," he motioned to Katherine, who handed him an artist's roll, "I have in my hands some graphic illustrations to support my suspicions that you've been nothing but a bully these past two weeks, and that you've been in league with a few rather questionable characters!"

Pulitzer took the roll that was offered to him with barely-concealed irritation. As he opened up the container to view its contents, Roosevelt sauntered over to where Jack was standing.

"And I suppose you're the boy Katherine was telling me about - Jack, is it?"

Jack nodded, straightening up. "A pleasure, Governor Roosevelt."

They shook hands, and if Jack had been any more star-struck, Davey had no doubt that he would have forgotten about the entire business of negotiating with Pulitzer altogether.

Things were definitely looking up.

"Well, Joseph," Roosevelt continued, returning to business, "what do you have to say to all this? Perhaps you've come to your senses now after seeing those drawings and knowing I'm well aware that you've colluded with the man responsible for such inexcusable neglect?" His voice became a bit more threatening as he added, "Rest assured that Mr. Snyder and his institution will be undergoing a thorough investigation, and know that I'd be happy to take a look at your employment practices as well while I'm at it, if that seems more agreeable to you than compromising with these young men."

Pulitzer's eyes narrowed, but there wasn't much he could say to that.

"I refuse to discuss this in a committee," he repeated coldly. "But I will speak to Mr. Kelly. Alone."

The secretary immediately motioned for everyone to leave (though Davey caught the smile that she gave Jack before she swept by), and the rest of Pulitzer's staff scurried from the room, followed by Miss Medda and Spot, who exited at a much more dignified pace. The governor paused for a moment to quietly say a few words to Jack before heading towards the door as well.

"Are you coming, Davey?" Katherine asked.

Davey hesitated. After seeing how easily Pulitzer had discomposed Jack earlier in the conversation, the last thing he wanted to do was leave the newsie leader to face their adversary alone.

"He'll be fine," Katherine whispered impatiently, motioning for Davey to back off. "You have to let him do this."

Perhaps she was aware of the venom that her father was capable of unleashing...but she hadn't been there to see it let loose against Jack. Davey had, even if only for a passing moment, and he couldn't bring himself to move.

Katherine gave a barely-audible sigh of irritation, which Jack heard. He glanced over at them and seemed to take in the situation instantly.

"I'll be fine, Dave," he said quietly. "I got this."

The firmness in his voice didn't match the apprehension in his eyes, and Davey was about to insist on staying in the room no matter what Pulitzer or Katherine or anyone else said, when Jack gave him a look. It was an imploring look, and look that clearly said he didn't want to do this alone…but that he knew he had to.

So Davey reluctantly turned around and let Katherine propel him out of the room.


As soon as the office doors closed behind Katherine and the unwillingly Davey, Jack turned his attention to Pulitzer.

"You must understand that I cannot put the prices back to where they were," the newspaper owner said stiffly. "There is too much at stake."

"Oh, I get that you ain't wantin' to go back on your word in front of folks," Jack allowed. "You got your pride to think of, and all that." His eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to Pulitzer. "But in case you forgot, there's a lot at stake for us newsies, too, and I ain't leavin' this office until you've listened to our demands."

"I'll reduce the raise by half," Pulitzer offered quickly. "If I do, the other papers will follow suit -"

Jack shook his head. "That ain't good enough, Joe. You'd still be makin' money off of us. If you ain't gonna roll the price back to where it was, you's gonna have to give us somethin' else in return."

"Like what?" Pulitzer snapped.

"Like newspaper buybacks," Jack countered. "Any pape we don't sell you buy back at the end of the day, full price! Oh sure," he continued, holding up his hand before Pulitzer could object, "maybe you'll lose a little money here and there if the boys have a pape or two at the end of the day that they coudln't move...but more than likely you's gonna be growin' your circulation, 'cause if a newsie can take a few more papers each day with no risk, he might actually sell them - and that's just more money in your pocket, Joe."

He paused to let the idea sink in.

Pulitzer stared at him warily for a moment. "That's not a bad idea," he admitted finally, a tiny note of respect in his voice that Jack had never heard before. The expression on the newspaper owner's face had changed; he knew that he was beaten, and he was cunning enough to realize that he should come to a compromise before he lost any further ground. It wasn't an expression of defeated surrender by any means…but it was a concession that he'd been bested for now.

And Jack would take it.

"So...we got a deal then?" he pressed.

Pulitzer gave a curt nod, and Jack spat in his palm before holding it out to the older man.

The newspaper owner grimaced. "That's disgusting!"

Jack didn't withdraw his hand. "You's shakin' with the president of the newsboy union, Joe," he said firmly, "and that's how we do business. Take it or leave it, but this deal ain't final 'till we do."

Pulitzer locked eyes with him for a moment, and Jack found himself once more under the man's piercing appraisal.

He had a sneaking suspicion that this wouldn't be the only time they'd drive a hard bargain.

"Keep your eyes on the stars and your feet on the ground," Roosevelt had admonished, and Jack found that exhortation to be oddly fitting now, as he watched something that he'd never thought he'd see unfold before his eyes: Pulitzer spitting in his own hand and shaking with Jack, acknowledging their standing as equals - at least in the moment.

They certainly weren't friends; they weren't even allies. But they'd come to an agreement, and Jack was confident that the future ahead would be better for all parties involved. The strike had been a daring act of defiance, and there had been moments where he'd almost been certain that the newsies would never come out on top, but somehow they had managed to see it through…

And now, at long last, it was finally over.


A/N: The strike may be over...but this story's definitely not! There are still several plot threads that need to be addressed, a few minor characters who've just hung around with no apparent purpose (yet), and I do believe I promised you all a romance subplot (I haven't forgotten!), so I hope you'll stick around for a while as I attempt bring this overly-ambitious story to a satisfying conclusion. :)

One of the bigger deviations from canon that I wrote into this particular scene was Pulitzer's use of Katherine as a way of getting at Jack's insecurities (this tactic is employed in a slightly different way during their previous encounter when Katherine's secret identity is revealed). This dynamic will be important later on in the narrative as the relationships between these three characters is further explored. Thank you for reading this installment - please let me know what you thought of it!