CHAPTER THREE- THE NEWSBOY IS A GENTLEMAN 

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THESE FIVE MINUTES SEEMED TO persist on for longer that it should have. Elizabeth knew her father had eyes on every corner of the city, and she couldn't even conjure the punishment she'd receive from him if he found out she was hanging out with a newsboy. Fortunately, she at least knew Katherine would remain silent about it all. 

Just as they started down the sidewalk towards Katherine's home, an obnoxious growling came from the newsboy at her side. Eliza turned her head slightly, only to see Race shy away his own in shame. It had been his stomach. The girl who had been taught to solely feel animosity towards newsboys and street rats she once considered friends, felt sympathy for him. Who even knows the last time he had a decent meal - or food in general. 

"You don't have to be ashamed," she blurted out, "I understand." 

Race looked back at her, emitting an exasperated scoff, "Sure you's do." 

"Don't judge a book by its cover," Eliza muttered with an adjusting tug at her skirt in a habit, "I once considered newsboys as my friends when I was young." 

"Oh's really?" a heavy weight of suspicion dragged in his accented voice, "Ironic. So what changed 'ya mind?" 

"We all have to mature at some time. I had to a little early," she retorted stiffly, secretly relieved once she realized Katherine's home was approaching.  

"Brutal," he bluntly stated, his stomach releasing another growl of gnawing hunger. Once again, Race diverted his attention away to the vacant streets, portraying himself as if she weren't present. Eliza, thinned in patience, looked away to Katherine's house which they had arrived at. 

She pushed through the raspy, wood gate and practically hurried up to the porch. After retrieving the spare key to the door, Eliza stepped back to the edge with a teeter, leaning out into the light of the moon. 

"I'll be back," she called to the newsboy, whose confusion could be seen in the dim light from where she stood. Eliza turned to the shut door, slipping the key into the lock and joggling it until it clicked. She shoved open the door, staggering a couple steps upon her entrance into the dark vestibule. Fortunately, the kitchen was illuminated by the moonlight, permitting her to easily track her way to it.  

With discretion, Eliza softly plodded across the hall and into the kitchen - if she woke her sister, it would be a quick unravel into chaos. Despite knowing Katherine wouldn't utter a word of the newsboy to her father, Eliza knew she would pester her endlessly about him. 

Once in the kitchen, she commenced her search for any piece of food on the counter or within the refrigerator. To her delight, she found a few scattered pieces of food she could gather to create a suitable meal; five apples, a decent amount of freshly baked sourdough, and a few leftover slices of carved ham from that evening's dinner. He could pass some out to the other newsboys. Eliza hastily deposited the food into a partially tattered paper bag, and folded the flap over, cinching it tight in her right hand. 

Before departing the kitchen, she poured out some sparkling water into a glass - nearly to its brim - and scampered out back to the vestibule. The water, to her annoyance, splashed little trickles over the brim and cascaded down her fingers. Ignoring it, she discreetly pushed open the screen door with a shrill of a creak, and she winced. 

Hastening down the few steps on the porch, Eliza scuttled back to Race, who had angled himself against the fence. His unlit cigar wagged from his bottom lip as he gazed up to the star scattered sky, oblivious to her for now. But, the rustling of the grass caused him to shoot up straight into a defensive stance, fists clenched to the intensity his knuckles flashed white. 

The newsboy's cheeks flickered with crimson when he found it was just her. Eliza saw his poorly hidden sheepishness when she came to the other side of the fence, reluctantly. One little noise had set him off. 

"Here," Eliza whispered, making certain a decent amount of distance was between them as she presented the bag and glass. The cigar nearly dropped from his mouth as it registers what this was. His stomach lowly grumbled as he wavered in thought at whether or not to accept. 

"I's don't need 'ya charity," he finally says with a snarl twisting his face. 

"Take it," she demanded, pushing it forward even more to him, "You need food." 

"I's don't need you's to be my mama," Race snapped, propelling the swaying back away from the brim of his nose. 

"At least take it to give to the other newsboy at the lodging house," Eliza pressed further anxiously - why wouldn't he just accept it? What's with all the reluctance? 

The newsboy turned back to face the girl - one he had just met that's already being so nice to him. Why? He was only a street rat; nothing barely to him. Yet, here this girl was swinging a bag of fresh food in front of his face, a kind smile on her face behind it. 

"Fine's," he grunted, snatching away the bag almost possessively and holding it against his thigh. 

"I do hope you give the other newsboys some," she stated with a sly smile curled on the corner of her mouth. Race solely gave a shrug as he stepped away to leave, winking at her before racing off down the incline. Eliza watched him for a few moments until he was shrouded into the shadows of the buildings. Turning around with a growing simper, she walked back to the porch, hearing the door squeak open. 

Flickering her eyes up with a drop of her smile, she finds Katherine teetering out of the doorway in her nightclothes. 

"The newsboy escorted you home? Quite romantic," Katherine snipped with humor, stepping aside to allow her sister into the house.

 Eliza reeled her eyes as she entered the house once again, "He's a scrappy and hungry newsboy who happens to be a gentleman. Nothing romantic involved in that."