Me oldest brudda's name is Almond Dunbar Fiske (an' no kiddin' eitha), but he mostly goes by Dunny. Dat's what Spot calls im. "Spot" is Spot Conlon, an' he's da head Brooklyn newsie. Dunny's a newsie too cuz he don't wanna woik in da factory like me odda' bruddas or me dad.

I'm sp'osed to be in school most times, but I escape a lot and hand around wid Dunny when he lets me. But when he an' Spot an' da odda newsies go ta' Manhattan or whereva' he tells me ta' go home and mind mum. Sometimes I does, and sometimes I don't.

A coupla' weeks ago I didn't feel like goin' home, so's I just folla'd all of em. I stayed way back, an' nobody pays much attention to no little goils, anyways. I knew dey wuz goin' ta' Manhattan, and Dunny says dat's safer dan da' Bronx or da South Side, so I figgered I'd be okay.

Dey went all da way to dis restrunt, I think it wuz called Tibby's. Spot an' Dunny an' 2 odda' of our newsies went in an' the rest of them split up and started roamin' around. I knew dey was keepin' a lookout for da' scabbas dat are always afta' Spot. I wasn't worried dat dey'd see me, an' even if dey did I could probably talk them out of tellin' Dunny on me. I got as close to da' buildin' as I could so's I could see what dey wuz doin' anyways.

Dere's dis big winda in da front, so's I kinda' walked by it real slow a coupla' times so's I could see Dunny an' his friends. Dey wuz all sittin' at dese table eatin' rolls an' drinkin' dis brown stuff. Me mum would'v been awful mad if she knew Dunny wuz ruinin' his suppa' dat way.

I guess I had passed da winda about 2 or 3 times when all of da sudden somebody grabbed me an' pulled me inta' da alley around da side of da buildin'. I didn't scream or nuthin' (I ain't that kinda' goil), but he startled da livin' daylights outta me. I turned around and dere wuz dis boy about my age, and small like me. He had curly hair like dis goil I know, but I could tell by his grip that he wasn't no sis.

"What're you doin'?" he says.

I decided not to get mad--yet. "I ain't doin' nuttin'. Is dere a law against dat now?"

He kept at me. "You was lookin' fer somebody. I wuz watchin' ya' from across da street. Ya' lookin' fer one of da' newsies maybe?"

"No" I lied. "I wasn't lookin' fer nobody, an' why wuz ya' watchin' me anyways? Doncha' got any bedda' ways ta spend yer time?"

Curly looked at me suspicious-like. "You from da' Refuge?" he ast suddenly.

"If I wuz from da' Refuge do ya think I'd be paradin' around in broad daylight where da' bulls could find me? What's got you up a tree, anyways?"

"I thought you wuz bein' used ta' look fer somebody. It'd be like dem scum from da' Refuge ta send a goil." he told me.

"Oh, ya' mean ya' think I'm lookin' fer da' Cowboy?" Dunny had told me all about Jack Kelly's escape on da' back of da' guvnor's carriage.

"How'd ya' know Cowboy?"

"Oh, he's an old pal o' mine." I said breezily.

"Oh yeah?" he sneered. Sneered--dat's da only woid for it. "Well, why doncha' come inside wid me an' say hi ta' yer old pal."

I almost got scared, so I decided I betta' back outta' dat one. "Okay, so he's not zactly a pal."

"So? Ya' ken still come in."

"No I can't. Me brudda'd kill me."

"Yer brudda? Who's yer brudda?"

"He's called Dunny. He's wid Spot Colon, an' he doesn't know I folla'd him."

"Spot Conlon? Ya' came all da way from Brooklyn, an' nobody else knows it?"

"Yeah. An' if you'll let go of me arm, I'll go back before anybody else knows it." Ta' tell da truth, I wuz gettin' kind of homesick fer good ol' Brooklyn. Dat, and da kid's grip on me arm wuz startin' ta hoit.

"All right, I'll let ya go. But stay in Brooklyn from now on, okay? Da next time it might be one of da Delancey brudda's dat gets ya." I turned ta go, but he stopped me again. "Hey, what's yer name?"

"I'm Julie." I told him. "What's yers?"

"Snipeshooter. Dat's Sniper fer short."

" Kay Sniper. Be seein' ya." An' I left.

I got back to Brooklyn right before Dunny did, but just barely. I got lost, once or twice. Okay- maybe more like 4 or 5 times, but I wuz okay once I found da bridge.

About a week lata' I skipped school again an' found Dunny. It wuz a slow day fer sellin' papes, so's he let me go wid him to da pier ta see Spot. Usually he makes me stay away, cuz da guys like ta swim a lot, an dey don't wear much when dey do. But dat day nobody wuz in da wata'.

Spot said "Hiya kid" an' let me borra his slingshot. I aimed at dis bottle, but I hit one a da newsies instead. Spot an' Dunny thought dat was pretty funny. Dey wuz still laughin' when dis kid dey call Freckles came runnin' up. He said Jack Kelly an' some of da otha' Manhattan newsies wuz comin'. Spot an' Dunny went ta meet 'em an I just folla'd along.

Cowboy's about da best lookin' newsie in all of New Yawk, I think. I told Dunny dat oncet, an' he laughed an said that about every other goil in New Yawk thinks so too. He's real big, an' walks like he owns da whole entire woild. Even if ya don't like him, ya gots ta respect him. He had a buncha' his newsies wid him when he came, an' dey all did dat stupid spit-shake thing dat dey think is so important. After dey said all the usual things guys say to each udda', Jack reached behind him and dragged dis kid out by his collar. It was Sniper.

"Hey Spot, I gots a favor ta ask ya'. Snipes here done got himself in bad wid da Delanceys again, an' he needs ta stay outta Manhattan til dey cool off a little. Can ya' let him stay in Brooklyn fer 2 days or so?"

Spot said Snipe could if he stayed outta' da way. Jack said thanks, and den dey talked a litte more an' den the Manhattan newsies all left. Spot told Snipe to folla him and he'd make sure dere was room for him in da warehouse where da newsies sleep. When we wuz walkin' back I caught up with Sniper.

He looked kinda' suprised ta see me, but he didn't say nuthin'. So's I decided ta get things started. "So wadja' do? Drag one of da Delanceys into a alley when dey wasn't expectin' it?"

He snorted. "No. I spiked Oscar's beer."

"Wid what?"

He looked a little uncomfortable. "Uh... it's not really somthin' you can tell a goil."

"Oh." I had a pretty good idea what it was. Da kid was creative, anyways.

Fer da next coupla' days things wuz pretty quiet in Brooklyn. I skipped school again and hung wid Sniper. He couldn't sell papes, cuz he couldn't go back to his old sellin' spot fer a while, and all da Brooklyn spots wuz taken. I showed him around, an' we just goofed off. Throwin' rocks off da bridge, droppin' rotten tamatas on scabbas, stuff like dat. On da 3rd afternoon we wuz standin' against this old abandoned buildin' and Sniper wuz showin' me how ta' spit real far. All of a sudden, he grabbed me arm and pulled me inta' da nearest alley.

"Whatsa' madda? You got a disorder or somethin'? Yer always draggin' me inta alleys." I complained loudly.

He clapped his hand over me mouth and hissed, "Sssshhhh. I just saw Ocasr Delancey!"

"What? In Brooklyn? Yer crazy!"

"Maybe, but I'd know his ugly mug anywheres. Stay here!" He crept back ta da edge of da buildin', an of course I went too. We both looked out. Dat was a mistake.

It WAS Oscar, an he saw us. He shouted somethin' and den came runnin' towards us. Sniper let out dis funny soundin' squeak an' den took off in da opposite direction.

I don't know why, but I stayed where I wuz. I guess I wuz too scared ta move or somethin'. All I know is, I saw Oscar come barrelin' towards me, an' when he got real close ta me I stuck out me foot.

Ya know, dey say dat da bigga' dey are, da harder dey fall. Well, I hafta' say, dat was definitely true fer Oscar Delancey. He went down wid dis big thud, an' just laid dere. Fer a second I just stood where I wuz. I couldn't believe what I'd just done. It was like David an' Goliath or somethin'. Me, Julia Louise Fiske, had just brought down one a da biggest bullies in New Yawk City.

But I ain't no stupid, no matta' what anybody else tells ya'. I knew he wasn't gonna' stay dere foreva'. An' Sniper was half way to who-knows-where an' prob'ly wouldn't be back til who-knows-when. So I did da foist thing dat came to mind. I sat on him.

Oscar let out dis "Ooof" sound, but he still didn't move much. I guess I'd really knocked da bum out. I propped me chin in me fist an' tried to decide what ta do wid da oaf. Obviously I wuz gonna' have to take him to Spot an' Dunny, I just didn't know how I was spo'sed ta get him dere. I'm strong, but not THAT strong.

I guess I wuz dere for about 5 minutes or so when I heard dis noise from da otha' end of de alley. I looked up an' saw it wuz Sniper.He'd stopped runnin' when he realized there wasn't nobody chasin' him. When he saw me sittin' dere, his mouth literally dropped open. "Will ya please come here an' help me?" I asked. I wuz afraid Oscar was gonna' regain the few senses he had in da foist place an' throw me off. Or woise.

Sniper came ova' an' walked real cautiously around Oscar. "Whaja' do to him?"

"Just tripped him. He ain't moved yet. Do ya think he's dead?"

"Nah. We should be so lucky. Get off him, an' we'll roll him ova'."

When we got Oscar ova' on his back he just lay dere. "Maybe we should tie him up so's he can't hoit us when he wakes up." I suggested.

Sniper thought dat wuz a good idea. He fished around in his pockets an' came up wid a piece a

string. We used it ta tie up Oscar's feet, an' den used da ribbon in me hair to bind his hands. Dat done, we just stood an' looked at him.

"Now wadda' we do?" I asked.

"I don't know. Punch him in da nose, maybe? No, look! He's wakin' up."

As long as I live I don't eva' think I'll ferget da look on Oscar's face when he opened his eyes an' saw us standin' ova' him. He had no clue, an' it showed.

"What da'..." he started ta say. But Oscar don't waste much time talkin'. He tried ta sit up, and dat's when he noticed he was trussed up like a Thanksgiving toikey. Da look he gave us shoulda' shriveled us on da spot. "Why, you liddle twerps! I'll get ya good fer dis!"

"Ya can't do that while yer tied up." I pointed out. Oscar just snarled at me. I turned ta Sniper. "I say we should take him to Spot. He'll take care of him, an' den some."

"Yeah. But how're we gonna' get him dere?"

"Walk him, I guess. We can keep his hands tied."

We got ta woik, an' a few minutes lata' we wuz ready ta go. Oscar put up some fuss alright, but we just put a sock in his mouth ta shut him up.

We musta' made quite a procession on da way to da pier. Sniper was in front, pullin' on da string, which we tied ta Oscar's belt. We kept his hands tied behind his back, an' I held onta that ribbon. An' we kept da sock in his mouth.

We passed a coupla' da newsies on da way to da river, an' dey ran in circles around us, callin' Oscar all kindsa' names. Dis attracted soma' da odda' kids in da neighborhood, an' dey joined in. By da time we got to da pier it wuz a regula' circus.

Spot came out ta see what all da commotion wuz about, an' da look on his face was almost as funny as da one on Oscar's. "Hey!" he said. "Sniper, what is dis?"

"Uh, Oscar got stupid an' tried ta butt in on yer territory. So's me an' Julie stopped him."

"You can have him, Spot." I told him. "I don't want him anymore. He stinks."

When da Brooklyn newsies heard dat, dey started whoopin' an' hollerin'. Somebody yelled "Soak da bum!" an' dey surrounded Oscar. I let go of my ribbon. I figgered dat he wasn't gonna' get away now. An' when da newsies got done wid him, he wouldn't be in da mood ta botha' anybody fer a LONG time.

An' dat's da last I saw of Oscar. Dunny made me go home to mum, an' wouldn't tell me what dey finally did to him. At least he didn't tell on me, though. Snipeshooter went back ta Manhattan da next day. Before he went we stood on da bridge an' practiced spittin'. He told me I had ta stay in Brooklyn fer good, cuz I was da one da Delanceys would be afta' now. I told him I wasn't scared, but I wasn't stupid, neither. He just grinned, an' den spit on his hand an' held it out. I did da same, an' we shook. Den he took me totally by suprise (he's gettin' pretty good at dat) by pullin' me close an' givin' me a kiss on da cheek. "See ya' in a alley sometime."

I stood an watched him leave. Thing's wuz gonna' be boring around Brooklyn now. Oh well. Dere wuz bound ta be more trouble ta get inta lata', an' maybe I'd see him again.