skull nearly exploded as he struggled to contain his rage. As a gang leader, he had a reputation to maintain, but he hadn’t become the East Side’s top hooligan by picking fights he couldn’t win. Tommy knew that, too. He even turned his back on Sean to pick some imaginary sawdust off my coat. “Sweet potato. I’ll be —” he started to say to me.
Then someone shouted, “The bulls are coming!” And suddenly the market was filled with the thunder of heavy boots.
“We’ll get you, McCross,” Sean snarled at me as he melted into the crowd. “Count on it!”
2 Iceboat Initiation
December 24, 1906
For fifteen minutes the stall merchants complained long and bitterly to the police about the constant trouble newspaper boys caused. To the cops it was just one more paragraph in a long story. Nearly every day there was a complaint somewhere about newsies. We were just poor kids trying to make a living, but to established merchants we were one step lower than skunks raiding the garbage.
“Who’s going to pay for this mess?” the market manager demanded, pointing at the hundreds of broken Christmas ornaments.
“They knocked over my cheese wheels!”
“My tripe and trotters are ruined!” Mrs. Dunkle shrieked.
“I’ve got six feet of spruce stuck in my deep fryer!” Mrs. Dee cried.
I wasn’t going anywhere. One of the cops had me by the neck. At the very least I suspected I was going to spend Christmas Eve in jail. Several of the Kellys who hadn’t escaped the butchers would likely be joining me. None of us would have a silent, holy night.
“This lad here didn’t do anything!” Mr. Crane insisted.
A butcher named Graffman scowled. “Him? He started the whole thing!”
“He was running away from those Kelly thugs!” Mrs. Weekes, a flower stall vendor, added. “They’re always hurting people.”
“Bertie’s a good lad,” Mr. Crane said, pointing at me.
“He’s telling the truth, Jack,” Tommy said.
Jack seemed to give Tommy’s opinion considerable weight. He looked down at me like a bored cat clutching a rodent with his paw, trying to decide whether to let me go or bite my head off. “I hate newspaper kids,” he finally muttered.
“Royal George looks good for Boxing Day, Jack,” Tommy said quietly.
“What are the odds?” the cop asked.
“Three to one on Phelan’s IT.”
“So then why Royal George?”
“Phelan wins when the wind’s up. Royal George wins when the wind’s down.”
“You think it’ll be down?”
“Wind’s blowing strong from the west tonight,” Tommy said. “That usually means a lull for a day or two afterward. Three to one Royal George.”
Jack released a long, beery sigh. “What’s your name, boy?”
“Bertie McCross, sir.”
“McCross?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where do you go to school?”
“Parkdale Public, sir.”
Jack and the other policeman exchanged glances. The powerful hand gripping me let go of my collar, and my heels touched the floor for the first time in five minutes.
“Okay, McCross,” Jack said. “This is your first, last, and only warning. Stay out of my beat. Go peddle your papers in Parkdale.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And if I ever see you again, you’ll be getting a taste of this,” Jack said, smacking a lead-weighted nightstick hard against his hand.
“Yes, sir.”
“But the rest of you pikeys are going to lockup,” Jack growled. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get out by St. Valentine’s Day.”
The Kellys were frog-marched out between the cops and a posse of butchers. I scanned the crowd for Sean, but he was long gone. I noticed the blond girl again giving me one final look. Then what I had thought was a suit of armour suddenly moved. The metal suit turned out to be a woman in a silver dress. Her starched silk dress looked so much like sheets of metal that I fully expected to hear it squeak and clank as she hustled the beautiful blond girl away. My eyes followed them to the door, and when the young lady glanced back and smiled one last time, I felt blood rush to my face.
“You’d better go home, Bertie!” Mr. Crane suggested, suddenly smiling. He had seen me gazing at the young girl. His voice brought me back to reality.
As I thanked Mr. Crane and the flower lady for standing up for me, I saw Tommy and Ed heading out the south doors. I ran after them. “Hey!” I cried.
“Hey, yourself,” Ed answered.
“Thanks a lot. You saved me — twice.”
“You made the day ... different,” Tommy said.
“I always seem to do that for people whether I want to or not.”
Tommy laughed. “Yeah, you climb pretty good there, kid.”
“Hey, Tommy, we could use him,” Ed said.
“What?”
“For the race crew. Did you see the way he hanged on?”
“Hung on,” I said. I had my father’s unfortunate habit of correcting people’s bad English.
Tommy and Ed looked at me funny and then broke out laughing. “Well, he can sure climb, but he’d probably still be scared silly,” Tommy said.
“He just took on the whole Kelly clan and is still standing,” Ed said.
“You’re right. He might have some guts.”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but I wasn’t anxious to leave, with Sean and what was left of his gang likely still out there.
“What’s your name, anyway?” Tommy asked.
“Bertie.”
“Bert, you ever been on an iceboat?”
“No,” I told Tommy, “but before tonight I’d never climbed a Christmas tree, either.”
Tommy laughed. “He’s crazy.”
Ed grinned. “We need crazy.”
“You’re
