"So? Why was he getting angry?" Cole demanded to know when Douglas didn't immediately continue.

"She didn't want to take the basket, that's why," Douglas explained. He squatted down next to Travis before going on. "She keeps shaking her head, see, over and over. The man's talking up a storm and pointing his finger in her face. Then he pulls out a fat envelope and holds it up in front of her. She comes around then. She snatches it out of his hand as quick as lightning, which makes me think that whatever is inside the envelope is important, and then she finally takes the basket. He climbs back inside the carriage while she's tucking the goods in her pocket."

"Then what happened?" Travis asked.

"She waits until the carriage rounds the corner," Douglas told him. "Then she sneaks into our alley and throws the basket away. I didn't pay the basket much attention at all. I thought there was maybe an old cat inside. Never guessed it could be a baby. Don't think I would have left if I'd known…"

"Where'd you go?" Cole interrupted to ask.

"I'd gotten mighty curious about the envelope in her pocket, so I followed her."

"Did you get it?" Travis wanted to know.

Douglas snickered. "Of course I got it. I don't have the reputation of being the best pickpocket on Market Street for nothing, do I? The woman was in a hurry, but I got into her pocket in the thick of the crowd pushing their way onto the midnight train. She never knew I touched her. Stupid woman. Bet she's just about now figuring out what happened."

"What's inside the envelope?" Cole asked.

"You ain't gonna believe it."

Cole rolled his eyes heavenward. Douglas liked to draw things out. It drove the others crazy. "Honest to God, Douglas, if you don't…"

Travis interrupted his threat. "I got me something important to say," he blurted out. He wasn't the least bit interested in the contents of the envelope. His thoughts were on the baby. "We're all agreed we ain't throwing the little fella away. So now I'm wondering who we're gonna give him to."

"I don't know anyone who'd want a baby," Cole admitted. He rubbed his smooth-skinned jaw the way he'd seen the older, more sophisticated thugs do. He thought the action made him look older and wiser. "What's he good for?"

"Probably nothing," Travis replied. "Least ways, not yet. Maybe though, when he gets bigger…"

"Yeah?" Douglas asked, curious over the sudden excitement that came into Travis's voice.

"I'm thinking we could all teach him a thing or two."

"Like what?" Douglas asked. He reached out and gently touched the baby's forehead with his index finger. "His skin feels like satin."

Travis was warming to the possibility of educating the baby. It made him feel important… and needed. " Douglas, you could teach him all about picking pockets. You're real good at it. And you, Cole, you could teach him how to be mean. I seen the look that comes into your eyes when you think someone's wronged you. You could teach the little fella to look like that too. It's real scary."

Cole smiled. He appreciated hearing the compliment. "I stole me a gun," he whispered.

"When?" Douglas asked.

"Yesterday," Cole answered.

"I seen it already," Travis boasted.

"I'm going to get good shooting it as soon as I steal me some bullets. I'm gonna be the fastest gun on Market Street. I might be persuaded to make the little fella second best."

"I could teach him how to get things," Travis announced. "I'm good at finding what we need, ain't I, boss?"

"Yes," Adam agreed. "You're very good."

"We could be the best gang in New York City. We could make everyone afraid of us," Travis whispered. He was so enthralled over the possibility, his eyes shone bright. His voice took on a dreamy quality. "Even Lowell and his bastard friends," he added, referring to the rival gang members they all secretly feared.

The boys all took a moment to look at the pretty picture Travis had just painted for them. Cole rubbed his jaw again. He liked what he was imagining. He had to force the eagerness out of his voice when he spoke again. "Boss, you could teach him all about them books your mama taught you about. You could maybe make him as smart as you are."

"You could teach him how to read, and he wouldn't get whiplashes across his back for learning the way you did," Travis interjected.

"If we keep him, the first thing we got to do is take that sissy dress off him," Douglas announced. He glared at the long white gown and shook his head. "No one's ever gonna laugh at him. We'll see to it."

"I'll kill anyone who even snickers," Cole promised.

"All babies wear those things," Travis said. "I seen them before. It's what they sleep in."

"How come?" Douglas asked.

"They don't need walking clothes because they don't know how to walk yet."

"How we gonna feed him?" Cole asked.

"You can see the bottle of milk someone put in the basket. When it's empty, I'll get him more," Travis promised. "He probably don't have teeth yet, so he can't eat real food. Milk will do for now. And there are also some dry nappies-I'll get him some more."

"How come you know so much about babies?" Cole asked.

"Just do," Travis answered with a shrug.

"Who changes him when he piddles?" Douglas asked.

"I say we all gotta take turns," Cole suggested.

"I seen them nappies hanging on the lines behind McQueeny's house. There were little clothes hanging out to dry too. I could get the little fella some. Say, what are we going to call him?" Travis asked. "Anyone got any ideas?"

"What about Little Cole?" Cole suggested. "It's got a nice ring to it."

"What about Little Douglas?" Douglas asked. "It's got a nicer ring to it."

"We can't name him after one of us," Travis said. "We'd fight about it if we did."

Douglas and Cole finally agreed with Travis. "All right," Cole said. "The name's got to be something real important sounding."

"My pa's name was Andrew," Douglas interjected.

"So?" Cole asked. "He dumped you at the orphanage after your ma died, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Douglas admitted, his head downcast.

"We ain't gonna name the little fella after anyone who would throw a kid away. It ain't right. We got standards, don't we? This one already got himself tossed in the trash. No use reminding him with your pa's name hanging over his head. I say we call him Sidney, after that fancy fella who used to run the numbers over on Summit Street. He was a real mean one, Sidney was. You remember him, don't you, Douglas?" Cole asked.

"I remember him all right," Douglas replied. "He was mighty respected."

"You got that right," Cole said. "And he died of regular causes. That's important, isn't it? No one snuck up on him and did him in."

"I like the sound of the name," Travis interjected. "Let's take a vote on it."

Douglas raised his right hand. It was coated with dirt and grime.

"In favor?"

Cole and Travis both raised their hands. Adam didn't move. Cole seemed to be the only one to realize their boss hadn't offered much to the conversation in the past several minutes. He turned to look at their leader. "What's wrong, boss?"

"You know what's wrong," Adam answered. He sounded old, weary. "I have to leave. I don't stand a chance of surviving in the city. I've stayed far too long as it is. If I'm ever going to be free and not have to worry about my owner's sons finding me and taking me back, I have to go West. I can't live any kind of life hiding in alleys until the dark of night. A man can disappear out in the wilderness. You can understand, can't you? I shouldn't have a vote about the baby. I won't be here to help raise him."

"We can't make it without you, Adam," Travis cried out. "You can't leave us." He sounded like a frightened little boy. His voice cracked, then broke on a loud sob. His fear of being abandoned by his protector terrified him. "Please stay," he begged in a near shout.

The noise jarred the baby. The infant flinched in reaction and let out a whimper.

Adam reached into the basket and awkwardly patted the baby's stomach. One touch and he immediately pulled back. "This baby's soaked through."

"Soaked through with what?" Cole asked. He started to reach for the bottle to see if there was a crack in the glass.

"Piddle," Travis answered. "Best get the nappy off him, boss. Otherwise his backside's gonna get sore."

The infant was struggling to wake up. The boys all stared in fascination. None could remember ever being this close to anything this tiny.

"He looks like he's full of wrinkles when he squiggles up his face like that," Douglas whispered with a snort. "He's a cute little bugger, ain't he?"

Cole nodded, then turned back to Adam. "You're the boss for now, Adam. You got to take that nappy off."

The oldest didn't shrug off the responsibility. He took a deep breath, grimaced, and then slid his hands under the baby's arms and slowly lifted him up out of the basket.

The baby's eyes opened. In the light from the torch Travis held up, they could all see how blue the color was. "He could be your little brother, Cole. You both got the exact color of eyes."

Adam's arms were rigidly extended in front of him. He had a pained expression on his face. Sweat beaded his forehead. He was obviously terrified holding the infant. He didn't know how hard to squeeze, and heaven help him if the little lad started to cry. He didn't know what in God's name he would do then.

In a hoarse whisper he asked Cole to please lift the gown and undo the nappy.