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Race came running into the square. He looked around frantically for either Spot or Jack. Finally he saw them both leaning against the statue. He ran over to them, puffing for breath.
"Jack... Spot," Race puffed out.
"What is it, Race? Did dey let ya in er not?" Jack asked excitedly.
"No, dey didn't. But I gots somethin' more important ta-"
"What could be more important den dat?" Blink shouted at Race.
All the newsies started to yell at Race for missing his chance to be The Spy.
"Will ya all jist SHUT-UP!" Race screamed after he caught his breath. All the newsies shut-up and listened to Race. "Thank you," Race said, exasperated. He gulped and started. "Spot, um, Birdie gave dis ta me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. He concealed it in his hand and handed it to Spot. "She tol' me ta give it ta ya when I saw 'er at da warehouse. And after I was pushed outta da warehouse, I looked in da winda 'n' saw her, uh, uh, kissin' Rook," Race said. He instantly ducked behind Jack, just in case Spot got crazy.
Spot looked at the key. He didn't like being rejected. "Ya saw it, wit' yer own eyes, Race?" Spot asked calmly, still staring at the key wrapped in its string.
Race nodded and said, "Yeah, I did." He was still hiding behind Jack.
Spot began to unwrap the string slowly so he could put it back on. Then he saw a small piece of paper stuck between the string and the key. He unfolded it discreetly and read it.
I'll be back.
Spot stared at it for a second as a tear rolled down his cheek. Then he slipped the key over his head. He looked up at Jack. "I'll kill 'im," he said in an angry, low, and very malicious voice.
Meanwhile, back in the Bronx:
"Whoa, Rook, wait a minute heah," Birdie said, pulling away from him.
"What? Ya enjoyed it," he said, smiling. The others in the room were quietly watching and listening.
"Yeah, but no, I can't, uh, it jist don't feel right right now, okay?" Birdie tried to explain. She wasn't doing very well. Then she smiled mischivously. "Maybe later," she said flirtatiously, nodding to the other guys in the room.
Rook smiled and took her to meet the rest of the gang. "Hey guys, dis is..."
"Boidie Kelly!!" someone screeched. He ran behind a nearby partition of some sort. Birdie laughed at him. The others looked at the guy who'd hidden and were a bit confused. They'd never met her and only knew her by reputation of being Spot's chick, perhaps a good fighter by some, too.
"Boidie Kelly," Rook repeated. "She's joinin' us."
"J.. j.. j.. joinin' us?" that one guy stuttered, terrified.
"Yeah, joinin' ya," Birdie said as she walked over to the guy. He cringed behind the partition into the corner. "Ah, Fagen, so we meets again," she said with a grin as she got a clear look at him.
"You.. you.. you stay away from me," Fagen stuttered. He was schooled and had read some of Dickins's work. His favorite character was Fagen from Oliver Twist. So the newsies started calling him that.
"Ya know 'im?" Rook asked, walking over and looking at the boy huddled in the corner.
"Yeah, I guess ya could say he was me foist victim heah in New Yawk," she answered with a laugh.
"Victim?" Rook asked puzzled.
Birdie looked at Rook and smiled. The rest of the gang just looked at her. They were extremely confused. What they'd heard about Birdie was only that she was Spot's girl and that she was pretty tough. Some knew better than others though.
"So, Boidie, ya tough, er are ya jist a goyl dat wants some friends?" a guy named Lucky asked. A few in the room looked at him like he was crazy.
Birdie laughed. "Sorry," she laughed for a second more then continued. "I didn't quite hear ya, but, yeah, I'm tough," she said, mocking him a little.
"I was jist askin', since ya wears a skoit and everthin', but, uh, how tough exactly?" Lucky asked as he stood up and prepared himself for a fight.
"You lookin' ta find out?" Birdie asked, preparing herself.
"Yeah, I don't think yer as tough as I'se hoid. Let's see how tough ya really is," Lucky said. He moved closer to her.
She did the same. "Ya ready?" she asked. He nodded and threw the first punch.
Lucky and Birdie fought for some time. All the others watched and formed a sloppy circle around the two of them. Punches were thrown and blocked, Lucky spent quite a while sprawled on the floor recieving a few. The others were quite impressed with the skill with which Birdie fought. She didn't miss a move that Lucky did, she was always one step ahead of him. Birdie picked Lucky off the floor and walked with him till he was stuck up against the wall. His feet were several inches above the floor and he had several cuts on his face.
"So, ya think I'm tough 'nuff fer ya?" Birdie said.
"Yeah, you'll do jist fine fer..." Birdie let go of his shirt. "...da gang," he said as he SMACKED into the floor. Lucky lay there for quite a while; he was in considerable pain.
"Wow, dat was great, Boidie. Yer a great fighta. Where'd ya loin ta fight like dat?" some kid asked. Several versions of that question were being asked of her from all the guys in the room. She just smiled and ran her fingers through her long hair.
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