"Bookie, put down da book an' c'mon."

Racetrack was more than impatient with his assistant this particular morning. He knew the kid loved Sherlock Holmes, but just like the famous detective Bookie had a job to do.

"Just one more page, its gettin' good."

Race grabbed the book. "You'se kin find out what happens when yer done sellin'."

Bookie glared at Race for a minute before leaving the lodging house. He walked to the distribution center and watched as Jack had his usual morning fight with the Delancey brothers. Swifty was standing next to him and asked, "What's th' problem der Bookie?"

"Nuthin'."

"Ahh, Race took yer detective book again."

Bookie looked up at him. "How'd you know?"

"You read th' stories, detectives kin figure out anythin' by how people act 'n' talk." answered Swifty.

Bookie jammed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah sure."

The gates opened and the newsies poured into the distribution center to buy their papers. Bookie bought his papers, then looked for Race, but couldn't find him.

"Hey der Bookie, who're ya lookin' fer?" asked Itey.

"Race, have ya seen 'im?"

"Should be here somewhere, you'se kin sell wit' me if ya can't find 'im."

"Maybe I will anyway."

The two newsies went out into the streets and sold their papers to the people of Manhattan. As they passed by the lodging house Bookie noticed Race leave and head in the opposite direction of the distribution center. "Hey Itey, what's he up to?"

Itey turned and saw Race walking away. "Don't know. He must have a reason though."

Bookie became only more curious. He finished selling and went back to the lodging house. He went upstairs in the empty bunk room, where he found a note near Race's bunk. He picked it up and read Racetrack, come to the apartment, we need to talk - Sarah

Bookie gasped and quickly stuffed the note in his jacket pocket, then left the lodging house and went straight to Tibby's.

"Hiya Bookie, come sit wit' us." said Jack.

The young newsie sat down and caught his breath. Jack watched in puzzlement. "You alright Kid?"

"I have an idea Sarah's cheatin' on ya."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yer readin' too much Sherlock Holmes."

"Yer not a detective Bookie, yer a newsie." said Boots.

"Der secret agents now." stated Bookie through gritted teeth.

"Why d'you wanna be like dem guys? Ya wanna go around with a name like James Adhiesive* 'r' somethin' like dat?" asked Dutchy.

"Maybe he wants th' number given. Y'know, agent double-O somethin' 'r' other." said Mush.

The newsies laughed, causing Bookie's anger to boil over. He jumped up and exclaimed, "At least it's bettah den bein' a poor newsie!"

He stormed out of the diner, pushing Swifty aside as the newsie entered. "What's wrong wit' him?" he asked.

"Bookie's actin' like th' secret agent he reads about." answered Specs.

"An' you'se guys laughed at 'im."

"Well jeez Swifty, he's sayin' Sarah's cheatin' on me." said Jack.

"Dats a good reason ta laugh at 'im?"

Swifty sat down with the other newsies as they thought about what he said. "Look, dat kid has a dream, ta be a detective like Sherlock. Even if he imagines dis stuff, play along! Let him live 'is fantasy."

"Guess we shoulda listened insteada laughed at 'im." said Snoddy finally.

"I'll talk ta 'im--" started Jack.

"Ya think he's gonna talk ta you'se now? Bookie's gonna try 'n' prove whatever it was he tried ta tell ya." said Swifty.

After he left the diner, Bookie went to the apartment building the Jacobs live in. He climbed up the fire escape and sat under the window, where he heard Racetrack and Sarah talking.

"Why don't we just tell Jack?" asked Sarah.

"No, he can't know. It's bettah dat way." said Race.

"He's going to find out sooner or later." said Sarah.

There was a long pause until finally Race said, "Let's wait for a few days. I'll come back tomorrow an' we kin' decide from der."

Bookie quickly and quietly went down the fire escape and hid as Race exited the building. The young newsboy walked the streets and thought about what he heard. He was so deep in thought that he ran into Swifty.

"Must 'ave somethin' on yer mind, I said yer name twice."

"I just heard Sarah 'n' Race talkin'."

"Really? Find out anythin'?"

Bookie told Swifty about the note and what he heard from the apartment window. The older newsie listened with interest, then asked, "So ya think Race 'n' Sarah're goin' behind Jack's back?"

Bookie thought for a minute. "Guess I should git more information b'fore decidin' anythin'."

Swifty nodded. "Yeah, but make sure neither of 'em suspects anythin'."

The next morning Bookie went with the newsies instead of reading Sherlock Holmes. He sold with Itey again, close to the lodging house, and watched for Racetrack. The newsie left the lodging house and made his way to the apartments. Itey nudged Bookie and said, "Go ahead an' follow 'im, I'll sell yer papes."

Bookie handed his papers to Itey and quickly left for the apartments. He sat under the window and listened.

"Dis is crazy Sarah!"

"Race, Jack will want to know one of his newsies is in the hospital."

"Bumlets told us not ta say a word."

There was a long pause. Bookie thought the conversation was over until Sarah said, "You have to talk to Bumlets and make him understand that..."

Bookie climbed down the fire escape and sat in the alley. "Bumlets in th' hospital, why'd I hafta try 'n' be a secret agent an' learn dis?" Bookie asked himself, "Wonder where he could be at, an' how'd Sarah know?"

Bookie stood and walked the streets, hanging his head and dragging his feet. Suddenly he stopped and stared at the sign in front of him, it read DR. NO MEDICAL HOSPITAL. "That's how Sarah knew," Bookie said aloud, "she woiks at dis place."

He rushed into the building and went up to the front desk. "Ya gotta guy here named Bumlets?"

The head nurse looked through her book. "Yes we do, would you like to see him?"

Bookie nodded as the nurse stood and led him down a long hallway. She opened a door and motioned for him to enter. "You have a visitor Bumlets."

Bookie walked up to the hospital bed and saw his friend lying there. He couldn't figure out what was wrong.

"Hey der Bookie. How'd ya find me?"

Bookie removed his cap and answered, "Gee I'm sorry, I'se just tryin' ta be like Sherlock Holmes. Sarah 'n' Race--"

Bumlets laughed. "Don't worry 'bout it. I kinda miss you'se guys."

Bookie sat on a nearby stool. "Why're ya here anyway?"

Bumlets threw the blankets off to show a cast on his leg. "I got in a fight wit'--"

Bookie started laughing. "Ya tripped while fencin' again didn't ya?"

The newsie turned red as he reached over and picked up something off the floor. It was his wooden staff, broken in two. Bookie threw back his head and laughed so hard tears came out of his eyes.

"Bookie, secret agents don't have a sense of humor." said Bumlets as he dropped the broken pieces.

"How'd ya end up bustin' yer leg?" asked Bookie, now trying to hold in his laughter.

"Ya seem ta know everythin', see if you'se kin guess."

Bookie thought for a minute then said, "Race knew 'bout dis so it had ta be where you meet up, two blocks from th' lodgin' house."

Bumlets nodded. "Go On."

"Yer always showin' off at th' stairway, so ya must've jumped off wrong an' busted yer leg."

Bumlets clapped. "Yer first case is solved der Secret Agent Bookie."

*Ok, if you don't get this, Adhiesive=Bond, get it? My brother came up with that one, it seemed funny at the time.