The appointed time came much too soon for Racetrack, but the prospect of making some money from it did brighten up things to dim instead of dismal. They'd agreed to meet in the lobby of the lodging house, since most of the other newsies would be out selling still or getting dinner.

"So what's first?" Dutchy asked, eagerly.

"First rule of dancin'," Race began. "No steppin' on my feet. Hit the floor, don't hit my feet. Got it?"

Dutchy nodded.

"Awright, we're gonna learn how t' waltz, 'cause you said that's what Helen does. That's a three step sorta dance. Y' move on each beat, so it's one, two, three, one, two, three, got it? We're gonna go right, so, we face right. You're gonna lead with your left foot an' I'm gonna lead with my right. We starts out in 4-track. Y' left foot should be outside mine an' yer right between mine, got it?"

"Left, inside, right between, got it," Dutchy repeated.

"That way we won't hit our feet or knees so much. Next thing's t' counterbalance. We gotta keep that all the time, so we can move each other freely, but don't fall into me, and I won't fall into you, got it?"

Dutchy nodded.

"Awright, this is an open promenade, I put my left hand on yer shoulder, you put yer right hand behind me and hold my right in yer left," Race explained. After a momentary confusion of right and left, they had it.

"Ain't so bad," Dutchy smiled.

"Wait until we start movin'," Race muttered.

About a half hour later, Dutchy had revised his opinion. Waltzing was hard. Race knew he had it easier, because he knew what he was doing and was dancing the girl's part. They hadn't even gotten to turns yet, dancing in a straight line was proving to be quite the challenge, as evidenced by Dutchy who had dropped where he stood when Race suggested a break.

"Awright Dutchy, let's try it again," he said.

The blond gave his fellow newsie a heartbreaking 'just five more minutes' look, but when Race set out to do something, he finished. At least things in his control, such as selling a certain number of papes, and teaching an inept friend how to waltz. Things like making number eight win- or even finish, were beyond that. "C'mon, up y' get," Race said, pulling Dutchy to his feet. The blond muttered something that was either a curse or a threat in German and got up.

"Awright, let's just dance in a straight line until we get t' that wall, then turn and dance back the other way. In a bit we can work on proper turns."

Blink had decided to go the lodging house before going to Tibby's, to rid himself of his extra cash and avoid the temptation of overspending. That done, he was about to leave when he heard voices below…