That Harlem Girl ~ Racetrack Higgins

Prologue

"Aye, Shears, you got some 'Hattan newsies wantin' tah see ya." The female leader of Harlem, one of the toughest girls known to all the newsies, was Shears. She got her name because she would cut her hair short every time it grew "too long" with a pair of shears. She managed to fight her way to the top, using her quick, slender body to her advantage. She didnt need brute strength like Spot Conlon, or extreme leadership skills like Jack Kelly. She was smart. Decently educated compared to an average newsie and could easily predict the outcome of events.

Shears turned from the fire escape, eyeing her second in command, Winks, who was known for constantly flirting with girls he passed on the street. A few fell for it, for he wasnt too bad looking. "Whadda they want," Shears asked in a monotone voice. Winks leaned forward, resting his arms on the window sill, "Talkin' bout some strike nonsense. I don' think they's up to any good though." Shears nodded, facing the sunset once more, taking in the last bits before climbing back in. She made her way to the front of the lodging house, coming face to face with a curly haired blonde smoking a cigar, a fellow wearing glasses, and a redhead. Being a mere 5'1 and not bearing quite a lot of weight, they looked near giants compared to her.

Shears looked up at them, "Whadda ya want, 'Hattan." The curly haired boy winked at her, "Well I's wasn't expecting such a pretty lady to be a Harlem leader. Why's you all the way out here. Come down to 'Hattan, we's treat yourself quite nicely." Shears rolled her eyes, "Shut up you's stick legged buffoon." The boy with red hair laughed so hard Shears was pretty sure he may have wet himself. The one with glasses smiled, but held back his laughter. The blondie adjusted his hat and looked away as the one with glasses began to speak, "I's Specs, the red head is Albert, and the one who's just flirted with you is Race." Shears narrowed her eyes, "I's never asked for names. I's asked for your reason of being here."

Specs scratched the back of his neck, "So's ya must knows about the papes' prices bein' raised. Well we's 'Hattan newsies are goin' on strike so they's dont raise the prices again." Race and Albert nodded along as Specs spoke. Shears eyed them suspiciously, "And how do I knows I's can trust ya." Specs paused, not sure of what to do. Race stepped forward taking off his cap. He took Shears' hand, the Harlem leader flinching at the physical contact, and placed his cap in her small hand, "You's can take my cap. I's wont come back for it or ask for it back. You's just keep it until you's decide whether or not's to strike. If you's strike you can give it back after."

Shears looked up at the tall boy, confused, "But a newsie's cap is the most important things to them. What if I's don't join ya strike? How's will ya get it back?" Race chuckled, "The decisions all rest in ya's pretty little hands. See ya, princess." The three newsies walked off, leaving Shears completely and utterly baffled. She walked back into the lodging house, Winks staring at her intently, "Soooo?" Shears shook her head, "One of thems fools gave me his cap as a way of 'trustin' them'" Winks snorted, "This oughta be interestin'. I's gunna hit the hay, though, so's I'll see ya in the mornin'"

Shears nodded, staring down at the hat in confusion.