He awoke to the sound of angry screaming.
"You did it, you're the thief!" Snipeshooter yelled at Boots.
"Nonsense, I'm not!" Boots shouted back.
The started pushing and shoving each other.
Jack jumped off his bunk and stepped between them.
"Break it up!" he said, annoyed. "Snipeshooter, why do you think Boots did it?"
"I've just caught him trying to crawl under my bunk! He was looking for my money, he wanted to steal it!"
"That's not true, I was looking for my shirt! It must have fallen off my bed during the night, and I can't find it!" Boots defended himself. "I'd never steal your stupid money!"
"Yes you would, you're a thief!" Snipeshooter yelled again. The other newsies surrounded them and Jack, starting to take sides.
"Boots never took anything!"
"Yeah, but none of us did, not from friends. Someone has started to!"
"I don't think Boots did it!"
"But why would he look for his shirt under Snipe's bunk?"
"It's the one right beside his, you moron!"
"Hey, I..."
"Shut up! All of you!" Jack shouted, angrily. "I'm as mad as you about what happened, but we can't start blaming people without proof!"
"Isn't it proof enough that I saw him under my bunk?"
"Actually, no!" Jack bent down and threw a glance under Snipeshooters bunk. He sighed, reached under it and pulled out a shirt. He tossed it at Boots. "I believe that's yours." It was not a question, he knew it was. Snipeshooter looked unsure.
"That doesn't proof he didn't do it! He could have put the shirt there to have an excuse to crawl around," he said weakly.
"That's nonsense!" Boots said.
"True," Jack stated. "Snipeshooter, you've got no right to accuse Boots of anything. Apologize!" "No! He might still be the thief. I don't apologize to a thief!"
"You know what I think?" Boots yelled. "I think YOU did it and are just trying to blame someone else!"
"That's a rotten lie!"
Jack had to hold them apart to prevent them from fighting.
"STOP this nonsense AT ONCE!" he shouted. "You'll stop accusing each other and get ready NOW! We've got papes to sell!"
With that, he turned around and headed for the bathroom. The others followed him, Boots and Snipeshooter still glancing at each other angrily.

The boys started to wash and shave, when all of a sudden someone screamed, "I've got the thief! Dutchy did it!"
Jack turned around and saw Skittery glaring at Dutchy, who defended himself.
"Me? Why do you say I did it?" he asked, anger in his voice. Skittery pointed at Dutchy's right hand accusingly.
"This is my razor! You took it without asking! If you steal my razor, why shouldn't you steal money, too?" Dutchy looked at him, totally astonished.
"What are you talking about?" he screamed. "I've been using you razor for nearly a year now, since mine broke. You know very well I couldn't afford a new one, and you never minded!"
"But you didn't ask! And taking something without asking is stealing!" Skittery gave back. Jack rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Now will you stop it! Skit, has Dutchy been using your razor all year?" he asked.
"Yeah, but he never..."
"Well, then you can't suddenly start calling him a thief because of it!" He looked at them all. "Aren't things bad enough as it is? Do you have to make matters worse by accusing everyone without proof?" Sadly, he turned around and left the bathroom.

On the way to the circulation office, hardly anyone spoke. The newsies threw each other angry or distrustful glances. When they met David and Les, Jack was the only one to smile at them, but the sadness still showed in his eyes. Without a word, the newsies started buying their papes. Even Weasel noticed that something was wrong. He eyed them suspiciously and worked quickly and quietly, without his usual comments and offenses.
After buying his papers, Jack sat down to read the headlines. David sat down besides him.
"And?" he asked. "How are things?" Jack looked at him, his eyes dark and hopeless.
"Bad, Dave. Very bad."
Before David could answer, they were interrupted by loud shouting. Jack looked up to see Itey and Snitch screaming at each other.
'Not again!' he thought. He looked at David. "See what I mean?"
They quickly walked over to the fighting boys.
"What is it NOW?" Jack asked.
"Itey has stolen my papes!" Snitch shouted. "He's the thief!"
"I've heard that too often already today, Snitch! Why do you think Itey stole them?"
"They were lying on this crate." Snitch pointed to a crate at his left. "And now they're gone! And Itey was standing right besides it, he must have taken them!"
"I didn't take your papes! You're a liar!" Itey shouted. Jack sighed.
"Err...Snitch?" Dave interrupted them.
"Yeah, what?"
"Could these," Dave pointed to a crate on Snitch's right, "Be your papes?" Snitch turned around. He blushed.
"Yes, yes, they are..." he confessed in a low voice. He turned back to Itey. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. Suddenly, Snipeshooter shoved him.
"So how could you say Itey did it if you weren't even sure your papes were stolen!" he demanded angrily.
"THAT DOES IT!" Jack was furious. "You money wasn't stolen either and still you accused Boots! And YOU didn't even have the decency to apologize!"
"But..." Snipeshooter began.
"No buts! I've had enough of this! Go, all of you, and sell your papes before I do something I'd regret!"
The newsies stared at him nervously, then quickly left the yard. Only David and Les stayed with Jack.
"Has it been like this all day?" David asked. Jack nodded.
"And the worst thing is, the day hasn't even really started!" He looked at his friends and sighed. "Oh, come on, let's get cracking!"

During the day, Jack tried to chat and laugh with David and Les as usually, but the pain and sorrow always lingering in his eyes was not lost on his friends. As much as they tried to cheer him up, it did not work.
That evening, on their way to the Lodging House, they met Snitch, who ran over as soon as he spotted them.
"Jack! Dave! Thank heavens I've found you. Come quickly! Specs and Jake seem about to kill each other." Without a word, the boys started running.
Upon entering the bunk room, they found Specs and Jake rolling on the floor, much like Blink and Race had been only two nights ago. But they were not laughing, and in their eyes was no joy, just anger and hate.
Other newsies tried to tear them apart, but to no avail.
"STOP IT!" Jack shouted, drawing them to their feet. He tried to push them apart, but they shoved him out of the way and were at each others throats again.
"STOP!" Jack repeated, hitting both of them square in the jaw. They looked at him, still angry, but not trying to attack each other again for the moment.
"I suppose this is about the theft again?" Jack asked sternly.
"Yes, Jake has..." Specs began.
"HAS either of you," Jack interrupted, "proof, and I mean PROOF, that the other one did it? And if you come with some stupid suspicion like Snipes did this morning, you'll regret it!"
The boys just stared at each other, then at him. Neither spoke.
"Thought so. Go to bed. Both of you. NOW. I won't allow any more fighting because of this nonsense, understood?"
Specs and Jake looked as if they wanted to object, but Jack glared at them warningly, clearly conveying that they were in for the beating of their lives if they did not comply now. Without a word, they went to their bunks.

Jack came over to Les and Dave. He saw the younger boy was very disturbed and frightened by the incident. He hugged him.
"Sorry you had to see this." Then, to David, "Bring him out of here. Bring him home."
David nodded.
"You want to stay at our place tonight?"
"I'd love to...but I can't leave them alone. Might end in a massacre." His eyes showed he was only half joking.
David nodded his understanding. He hugged Jack close, for a long moment. "If you can't take it any longer, come. Or...how about I bring Les home and come back, to stay here overnight?"
"You'd do that?" Jack's eyes were full of gratefulness. "Thank you, I really appreciate the offer. But no, go home and stay with your family. I'll keep control here."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Okay. Good night. See you tomorrow."
"Good night, Cowboy."
"Night. See you."
Jack watched his friends leave, then he turned around to the other newsies. They were sitting on their bunks, each on his own. No trace of the usual talking and jokes. Jack sighed. He suddenly felt very old. Without another word, he went to his bunk.

During the course of the evening, several fights erupted. Jack managed to break up all of them, but he grew more and more despaired. When finally everybody was asleep, he lay on his bunk, depressed.
'Perhaps this is the time to finally go to Santa Fe,' he thought. But then, he scolded himself. 'What are you talking about, Jack? Leaving them now, of all times? Now, when they really need you? Never!' He looked around, at the faces of his sleeping friends. They looked so calm, so peaceful. Just like they always had. 'I will get things right. I must. I'll get our friendship back. I won't leave and let them down now.' Sighing, he fell asleep.

The next morning, things were not any better. The newsies kept arguing, if they talked to each other at all. Jack permanently had to calm them or to simply push them on.
He was close to losing his own temper more than once.
'Can't they be a bit reasonable? Can't they see they're making everything worse?' he thought over and over again. When he met Dave and Les at the circulation office, he merely nodded at them with tired eyes. He got his newspapers and left the yard without one glance at the headlines, not even stopping to wait for David and Les. After they had bought their papers, they caught up with him as quickly as possible.
"Jack?" Dave asked. "What's wrong? No, forget this, that was a stupid question, but what is wrong with you? What pulls you down so much?" Jack turned around to him, tears in his eyes.
"I can't go on much longer, Dave." He lowered himself on a doorstep. "They are my friends, and they keep fighting. We were like brothers, and now... we're breaking apart, Dave. They are my family, but I'm losing them." He was crying now.
David and Les sat down to his right and left, both hugging him.
"It's going to be all right, Jack. I know it," Les whispered.
"Jack," David asked. "You feel responsible, don't you?" Jack looked at him, guilt in his eyes.
"Yes. I wish I'd never noticed the money was missing, I wish I hadn't said anything..."
"But Jack, that doesn't make it your fault! You're the victim here, your money was stolen. It's whoever took it that is responsible."
"You're only trying to cheer me up, Dave. I should never have risked our friendship just for some money."
"Jack, look at me." David's voice was stern. "You always call me a terrible liar. So believe me what I'm saying now: It's NOT your fault!" Jack nodded slowly.
"You are right, Dave. In a way, I know this. But still, I can't help feeling responsible."
"Jack," Les asked, "do you think everything would be all right again if you found out who did it?"
"Most probably. But truth is, I don't know how I should."
"And..." Les gulped. "What if we just told them I did it? Then you could all be friends again."
"Les!" Jack was deeply touched by the boy's generous offer. "It's really brave of you to be ready to take the blame, but I'd never allow this. You didn't do it, and I won't let the thief get away with it on your cost." He hugged the boy.
"Is there anything at all we can do for you?" David asked. Jack smiled.
"You're already doing it." He rose slowly. "Come on, let's sell. And perhaps we could watch a boxing match afterwards?"
"Sure, if you want to." David smiled.
They began walking down the street, hawking the headlines.

In the evening, Jack wanted David and Les to head straight home.
"There's no point in you watching any more scenes like yesterday," he said.
"We'll come with you, at least to see how things are," David answered. "And don't even try to argue you don't need us, because you do."
"Please, Cowboy. We want to help."
"Thanks, but you really don't have to," Jack insisted.
"I know we don't have to, but we will. Period," David said. Jack sighed.
"Okay, have your way." He was really glad he would not have to face the situation alone, but he did not want David and Les to feel compelled to come.
On their way to the Lodging House, David tried to keep up an easy conversation, commenting on the day's selling and the boxing match. Jack hardly responded. He was full of concern.

When they entered, Race was sitting on Kloppman's desk, apparently awaiting them. The old man was nowhere in sight.
"Heya, Race," Jack smiled. "How are things upstairs?"
"Quiet. They don't fight, but they don't talk either." Jack noticed the worried look on Race's face.
"Anything wrong?" he asked him.
"Yes. Can I talk to you in private?"
David quickly spoke up, "Jack, Les and I are upstairs, okay?" He took his little brother's hand and let him towards the stairs.
"Yeah, thanks Dave," Jack nodded. He looked at Race. "So?"
"Jack," Race sighed, "I know who took the money."
"Oh, not you, too, Race! Do you have any idea how often I've heard this during the last two days?"
"No, Jack, really. I DO know it." Jack sighed.
'Wonder what fabulous suspicion THAT will be,' he thought. "Okay, Race. So who took it?"
"I did."
"WHAT?"
"I'm sorry." Race's voice was barely audible.
"YOU took my money? But...why? And why haven't you said something sooner? Or simply slipped it back while there still was time?" He did not know what to think, what to feel. Race was one of his closest friends.
"I...I wanted to give it back, really. But I don't have it. I wanted to give it back as soon as I could. I hoped you wouldn't notice so quickly." Race hung his head. He could not meet Jack's eyes.
"What the hell did you spent it on?" Jack's voice was shaking with emotion.
"Jack..."
"WHAT?"
Race looked at Jack, tears of despair in his eyes. "I had this hot tip on the third..."
Jack screamed. "You've lost MY money AT THE TRACKS?" He pulled Race off the desk, holding him by the front of his shirt with his left and drawing his right fist back.
Race stood motionless, his eyes closed, expecting the blow to come.
Jack dropped his fist. He could not do it.
"Why? WHY?" In his voice was more pain than anger.
Race opened his eyes again. They were full of guilt and sorrow.
"The oven. You see, it was a 1:6 bet. If the horse had won, I'd have gotten sixty dollars. Enough for an oven and to give you your money back double." He stifled a sob. "I know it was a stupid idea. I don't know how I could..."
"STUPID? That's more than stupid! That's downright idiotic!" Jack shouted. "How often do this 'hot tips' of yours work, huh? One time out of ten? Of TWENTY?"
Race had to fight hard to hold back the tears. He was shaking violently.
"I...I don't know what to say, honestly, Jack. I won't even DARE to ask you to forgive me. I... I just wanted to tell you the truth before I leave." With that, he headed for the door.
Jack grabbed his arm, yanking him around angrily. "And just where do you think you're going?" he yelled.
"Don't know. Just...leaving." He looked at Jack pleadingly. "You see, I know I can't stay here after what I've done, so..."
"So you thought I'd simply let a friend of mine walk out in the cold to FREEZE and STARVE?" Jack screamed, his eyes full of rage.
Race looked at him, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Am I still your friend?"
Jack sighed, letting go of his arm. "I...I don't know, Race. Right now I'm too hurt and disappointed to decide anything. But I DO know I don't want you lying dead in the streets."
Race's voice quivered with emotion. "So... so I really may stay?"
Jack looked at him, sighed, and nodded. "Three conditions."
"Anything."
"First, you will pay me back FULLY."
"Promise."
"Second, till you have paid me back, NO GAMBLING. No horses, no poker, no dice. I want you to earn the money back honestly, understood?"
"Yes, of course," Race nodded.
"And just to make sure you keep this promise, you won't leave the Lodging House alone. You'll always sell with a partner, and if you want to go off in the evenings you'll have to find someone to go with you, or you'll have to stay here. Is that clear?"
"Yes." Jack noticed a pang of anguish in Race's eyes. Jack's distrust obviously hurt him, but he knew he deserved no better.
"Third, you will tell the boys YOURSELF."
Race stared at Jack, shocked. "Can't...can't you..."
"NO! Damn it, Race, THAT you must do yourself!"
Race nodded. "Okay," he whispered, fear in his voice.
"So?" Jack motioned towards the steps.
"You mean...right now?"
"When else? Christmas eve? Go!"
Race winced. "Jack, please, give me till tomorrow..."
"No way! You've seen yourself how they're nearly killing each other. It's YOUR fault, and you'll stop it AT ONCE. Understood?"
"Okay, okay, just give me a minute..."
"MOVE IT!" Jack shoved Race towards the stairs. "You've tried my patience more than enough!" He glared at him. "Yes, you're right. Sorry." Race began to climb the stairs slowly. He was trembling, his face full of fear and anguish.

In front of the door to the bunkroom, he hesitated.
Jack opened it and entered, dragging Race with him.
Upon seeing the despair on Race's face, some of the newsies jumped up.
"Race, what's wrong?" David asked, concerned.
"I...I..." Race stammered.
"Race wants to tell you something, so listen, all of you." Jack's voice was like ice.
Race stared at the other boys' expectant faces.
"What are you waiting for, Race?" Jack growled.
"I've...I've stolen Jack's money." Race nearly sobbed.
"You did what?"
"Why?"
"How could you?"
The newsies' emotions exploded. Race raised his hands.
"Let me explain...I've got no excuse, but let me tell you why I did it..."
They became quiet.
"I... I wanted to do something about the oven... I...I...I thought I could win the money to buy one." Race continued talking quickly as he saw several of the others were about to say something. "I had a tip I really believed in, I'd talked with several experts and even the horse's jockey himself, I was so sure it would work and we'd have a new oven, but I didn't have the money it took, so I thought I'd take Jack's, and give it back afterwards, double, and before I'd really thought about the whole matter I'd already placed the bet. And the moment the race started I knew it had been an idiotic idea, and I didn't understand myself. I prayed the horse would win and everything would work out, but of course it didn't. And then I was afraid to tell Jack and I thought perhaps he wouldn't notice at once, and I could save up money and give it back secretly. But he noticed the same evening, and I didn't dare to tell I did it, because I couldn't give it back yet. And I thought I'd just wait till I have it and slip it back then, so no one would ever know I was the thief, but then you all started fighting and screaming and hating each other and I knew it was all my fault, and I couldn't take it any longer, so I told Jack everything."
The newsies only stared at him in complete shock. David shook his head slowly.
"I don't believe this," he sighed.
Race looked at him.
"Believe it." He was on the verge of tears.
"So what are you still doing here?" Blink spoke up. "You don't think we want to live with a thief?"
"I...I wanted to go, but...I mean...Jack said..."
"I told him he can stay."
"What?" The others looked at him, surprised.
"Yes. My God, if we throw him out now, he'll freeze and starve."
"He deserves it," Snipeshooter said.
"Snipes, I understand you're angry at him, believe me, I'm too, but do you really want to see Race dead?"
"No...I don't," Snipeshooter confessed.
"See? He'll stay, but he has to pay me back fully, and till he does, he must not gamble, and he may not leave the Lodging House alone to make sure he doesn't go to the tracks."
"And when he's paid you back?" Specs asked. "Will everything be well and all right then, and we'll simply forgive him? And trust him again?"
Race searched his friends' faces for reactions to this, for something to give him hope.
"We'll see," was all Jack said. "Perhaps we should call it a night now. We've all got a lot to think about."
The newsies nodded. David and Les left, but not without hugging Jack and telling him not to be too depressed about it. The others prepared for bed.

Snipeshooter went over to Boots.
"Boots..." he began.
"Yes?"
"About what I said...accusing you and all...I'm sorry."
"Yes, I'm sorry, too. Friends?" He smiled.
"Friends." They spit-shook.

Similar scenes displayed themselves everywhere in the room. The newsies forgave each other and became friends again. With one exception.

Race was sitting on his bunk all alone, watching the others.
'At least I could stop the fighting. But I've lost them. They'll never forgive me. And I don't deserve it. It's all my fault. All my fault...' He could not hold back the tears any longer. Overwhelmed by his feeling of guilt and loneliness, he quietly cried himself to sleep.

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