Finally, a new chapter! Sorry about that. This is the last one. Well, enjoy!

CHAPTER 3:

"All roigh', wot now?" Race asked later, after their "day at the races" had been cut short by an angry guard. Racetrack was confident that he could smooth it over later, but he had given in and been "kicked out" for now.

"Now I choose!" Les proclaimed. Racetrack sighed, but consented.

"All right, what d'you want ta do?"

Les thought for a moment. "How 'bout we go to the vaudeville?"

Racetrack dug around in his pockets and found some money. "All right. Haven't seen Medda in a while."

"Boys!" Medda cried, making her way to their table after another successful show.

"Hiya, Medda," Race replied, smiling and kissing her hand. Les grinned up at the Swedish Meadowlark with admiration. Medda turned to him and smiled even bigger.

"There's my little actor! How are you, sweetie?"

"Great!" Les replied, a huge smile on his face. Medda was the only person whom he permitted to treat him like a kid. He liked it when she did it.

"You were swell, Medda," Racetrack said, probably hoping for a free drink for the compliment. Medda was too smart for him, though. Smiling, she whacked him upside the head lightly and sauntered away to another table. Race stared dreamily after her for a bit, his chin on his fist and his elbow on the table, until Les finally snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Race? Anyone home?" he said laughingly, his eyes sparkling as he teased his friend.

"Shut up," Race scoffed, pushing him away gently. Les laughed and dodged him easily.

"She was pretty good today, though," Les added thoughtfully as they walked back to the lodging house, their backs to the setting sun. Race gave him a half smile.

"Shut up, ya only want ta get in good with her."

Les shrugged. "Wot? She's pretty."

"You'se too young to be thinkin' stuff like that."

"Am not! I'se eleven!"

Race laughed. "Eleven? Way too young."

"Shut up! I'se just as good as you are!" Les replied indignantly.

"Look, kid. We've had this argument befoah, an' I won."

"That's cuz ya cheated!"

"I didn' cheat! Racetrack Higgins doesn't cheat!"

"You did! Ya tickled me!" Les grumped.

"Wot, like this?" Race replied, poking him in the stomach. Les recoiled instinctively, his breath catching in his throat.

"Yeah, like that! Don't do that! It tickles!"

"Yeah, duh," Race grinned, poking him again. This kid was adorable.

"Stoppit! I hate that," Les whined.

"Hmmm..." said Racetrack, considering. "Nah." He started poking Les repeatedly. Les squirmed and clenched his teeth, determined not to laugh.

"Shtop it," he mumbled, desperately trying to keep his mouth closed.

"Nope," Race replied teasingly. Finally, Les could see no other way. He reached out and started poking Race back. Race stopped instantly.

"Hey!" he cried. Les giggled cheekily and wiggled his fingers along Racetrack's torso. Race squirmed and pulled away, running along the street in an effort to keep far away from Les. The younger newsie laughed maniacally and chased Racetrack down the road, home again at last.

Hope you guys enjoyed this!