Davey was pushed to the ground by a large ball of snow up his back. His papers flew everywhere, taken away down the street by the icey wind. He sat up, shaking his head to clear the snow, and saw no one in sight. Davey sighed.

"Alright," he stood up and started gathering his papers, "Who did that?"

No sound answered him except for the slight movement of boxes in the corner. Davey moved towards them when Romeo and Specs jumped up and started pelting him with snowballs. Davey frantically ducked behind one of the newspapers, but it wasn't much help.

"Specs, that's Davey! Stop!" Romeo finally figured out, and grabbed Specs' wrist as he pulled it back to throw another.

"Sorry," Specs said sheepishly and adjusted his glasses. "We thought you was Crutchie. He's been ambushin' everyone all over."

"Crutchie?" Davey said in disbelief, and was about to say more when Race and Henry ran in, followed by Les. They were practically covered in snow.

"He's back there!" Race said. "In some buildin' that we can't reach. Crutchie got some snow up there, and he's throwin' them at all the newsies when we pass by."

Specs nodded importantly. "He can't last up there forever. He has to come down for more snow. And when he does, we'll be ready."

Davey shook his head. "But….Crutchie? Really?"

The other newsies ignored him, and started gathering as much snow as they could. Davey just watched as the five others ran off in the direction that Race, Henry and his brother had come from. At the last moment, Davey picked up some snow, molding it into a ball. He might as well do something useful, and he would like to get Crutchie back for that salamander in his bed.

Jack Kelly stood on a street corner, watching the snow fall gently as it covered nearly everything in sight. He was too busy to admire the beauty of it though, and looked around, muttering.

"Where's Race? I was supposed to meet him here."

A large mass of cold, wet snow slammed into the top of his head. He shook it off, looking around.

"I GOT HIM AND YOU'RE NEXT, JACK!" a voice that sounded suspiciously like Crutchie's shouted from above him. Jack got the last of the snow off him, and carefully looked up to see another snowball hurtling towards him at lightning speed.

Race, Jack, Henry, Specs, Romeo and Les crouched behind a stairwell, deathly quiet. They had found an old cart near Grand Central, and had packed all the snowballs they could into it. The newsies were armed, ready and dangerous.

"Hey, guys, I think—mmmm!" Davey lumbered up behind the six, a snowball in hand. Les tackled up him, putting a hand over his brother's mouth.

"You're going to ruin our plan if you keep talking," he whispered. "Now shhh!"

Davey did as he was told and briefly wondered when his brother had gotten so demanding.

The door to the stairs opened above the newsies, and Crutchie limped his way out, on his way to get more snow. He was carrying a bucket, and quietly came down the stairs.

As soon as he set the bucket down on the dirt, Specs nodded, and all hell broke loose. Snow went flying, and Crutchie was knocked head over heels, landing on the ground.

"Hey!" he shouted, but a snowball from Davey silenced him. Crutchie sat up, shaking his head to clear the snow. "What was that for?! Where are you?!"

Jack stood up behind the makeshift barricade. "That's for ambushin' everybody. Katherine even said you got her!"

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?"

"No!" Jack threw another snowball at his friend, grinning. Crutchie flopped onto the ground, groaning.

"Jack, that was my leg!"

Jack relented, jumping to help Crutchie up. "Okay, okay. I guess if the crip can't take it, then—"

"I'll give you 'crip'!" Crutchie pulled out the snowball he had been making, and threw it at Jack, knocking him off his feet.

The deluge of snowballs continued on through the day, leaving the newsies, Davey and Les the coldest and happiest they had been in a while.