I just woke up. It's real dark and everyone's asleep so I have to be real careful about how much noise I make writing in this thing.

I don't know why - maybe it's because Race is burned up at me about that poker game - but I just had a dream about the strike, back when I was a scabber, and Race was yelling at me. It was as clear as day. The guys still haven't forgiven me for working as a scab for that short time. But they don't understand. If I didn't take that job, I would have been stuck with my father until age 21. It was in my best interests to be a scabber, even though it didn't really get me that far. 'Course, being a newsy hasn't gotten me anywhere, either.

I'm getting to old to sell papers. I need to save up enough money for train tickets anywhere - I guess I'd rather go out West than any other place. Maybe Santa Fe first, since I did pick it and all, and then I'll just go wherever I want to. Heck, I might even take Sarah with me. We can run away or something.

No, Dave and Les would want to tag along too. Dave is all right, but I can't take a long trip like that with Les hitting me in the shins with his wooden sword. I guess I'll have to leave Sarah here, unless there's some way I can sneak her out.

I'm afraid that Snyder might decide to come after me no matter where I go. I guess I'll just go alone, even though I love Sarah and I don't know what I'll do without her. It's for her own good. Anyway, she don't need a bum like me for a husband. She can do better.

Maybe I'll get out West and strike oil. Then I can come back for her, that is if she ain't found a new fella yet.

I wonder how I'm gonna tell her that I'm leaving, after I almost left and came back. Sure, I said I got family here - and I do - it's just that I never really thought about what would happen when my father got out of jail.

I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep. I think I'll go outside or something.