Davey and Les went home. Katherine and Ellie left to write their article.

Katherine noticed Jack and glanced at Ellie. "I'll give you two a minute."

Ellie's eyes widened and she frowned. "Wait. Kat!" She let out a quiet groan as she faced Jack, deciding to stay a moment and talk to him. She held up the drawing. "This is amazing. What's your story? Are you selling papers to work your way through art school?"

"Art school?" Jack repeated with a scoff. "You're kidding me, right?"

"But you're an artist! You've got real talent. You should be inside the paper, illustrating, not outside hawkin' it!"

"Maybe that's not what I want." A flirtatious, lustful gaze crossed his face. "Can't you see it in my eyes?" He leaned in for a kiss.

Ellie moved awkwardly past him. "...Okay. Have you always been their leader?"

"I'm a blowhard, Davey's the brains."

She looked at him in surprise. "Modesty is not a quality I would've pinned on you."

"You and your friend have a name?"

"Katherine Plumber and Eleanor... Wells."

"What's the matter, you ain't so sure?"

"It's my by-line, the name I publish under; same with Katherine's. Now, tell me about tomorrow. What are you hoping for?"

"I'd rather tell you about what I'm hopin' for tonight." He moved closer to her again.

Ellie once again moved aside. "Mister Kelly..."

Jack groaned and said, "Today we stopped other newsies from carryin' the papes, but the wagons still deliver to the rest of the city. Tomorrow, we stop the wagons."

"Are you scared?"

"Do I look scared? But, uh... ask me again in the morning."

A small smile crossed Ellie's face. "Ooh, good answer. Good night, Mr. Kelly." She began walking away.

"Hey, where you runnin'? It ain't even suppertime yet!"

"I'll see you in the morning. And, off the record, good luck."

"Hey, hey, hey, Wells! Write it good. You and Plumber. We each got a lot riding on you two."

Ellie walked into the office she and Katherine shared and muttered to herself, "You heard him. "Write it good.""

Katherine, who'd heard Ellie's muttering, said, "Write it good or it's back to wheezing your way through the flower show. No pressure. Let's go."

She began typing as Ellie fed her information. "'Newsies stop The World'. Huh... a little hyperbole never hurt anyone. "With all eyes fixed on the trolley strike, there's another battle brewing in the city"...and if Ellie and I could just write about it." She ripped the paper out of the typewriter. "Come on, Katherine! Those boys are counting on you and your friend!" She went put more paper in. "Oh, you poor boys..."

--

Katherine:

Write what you know so they say,

All I know is I don't know what to write or the right way to write it.

This is big lady, don't screw it up!

This is not some little vaudeville I'm reviewing.

Poor little kids versus rich greed sourpusses-huh it's a cinch!

It can practically write itself, and let's pray it does,

'Cause as we may have mentioned, we have no clue what we're doing.

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