Stealing Jake by Pam Hillman

change anything. His empty stomach twisted with a new worry. What about Mark? Did he have anything to eat?
    “What’d he want? Got more beggar lice on the way? We’re busting the traces as it is.”
    “No. He’s throwing a fit ’cause somebody’s stirring up a stink around town, breaking in businesses, stealing stuff. People are getting mad, and he’s afraid the sheriff’s gonna start sniffing around.”
    “What’s that got to do with us?”
    “He thinks it’s those boys that got away when that crate got busted. He wants us to find ’em and get rid of ’em.”
    Luke’s eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. Not only did they have to hide from the law, but now Butch and Grady would be on the lookout for them. He was so tired. Tired of worrying, tired of fighting to stay alive, just plain tired. He wanted his brother, he wanted to be warm, and he wanted food to fill his empty belly. Why couldn’t everybody just leave them alone?
    Butch snorted. “Kids raised on the streets can’t be found iffen they don’t wanna be.”
    “No matter. That’s what the boss wants.”
    A shuffling noise had Luke scrambling away from the door. After one final glance at the building that held his brother prisoner, he hurried back to shantytown, to the shack he shared with the others.
    Luke tried to think of ways to keep his little group safe from Butch and Grady. For one wild, crazy moment, he thought about going to the lady at the orphanage. The pretty woman who’d knocked into him the day he stole the watch had left food and blankets for them more than once.
    And she’d begged them to come to the orphanage. She made it sound so easy. Was she really as good and kind as she sounded?
    Luke shook his head, banishing the warm, fuzzy feeling stealing through him. He couldn’t risk it.
    He’d never met an adult he could trust; why would she be different?
     
* * *
     
    Livy waited until Mrs. Brooks and the children were all sound asleep before she slipped out of the orphanage. She hurried down the street, keeping to the shadows, uneasy that there weren’t many back alleys for her to cut through.
    In Chicago, she could lose herself—or her pursuers—in the maze of streets and thoroughfares crisscrossing the city. But there weren’t enough side streets in Chestnut to hide a cat, let alone a grown woman. And besides that, she didn’t want Jake to see her. She might not be able to explain herself as easily as the first time he’d caught her out late at night.
    She cut down the alley between McIver’s and Baker’s Boardinghouse, sidestepping a pile of garbage that smelled to high heaven. She ran low and light on her feet, not lingering and not making any noise. A dog barked up ahead, and she froze. Wonderful.
    The back door to the boardinghouse opened. “What’chere hollering about, dog?”
    Livy didn’t linger. She took off in the opposite direction, the dog’s frenzied barking following. She made note of the house with the dog. She wouldn’t make the mistake of going that route again.Not if she wanted to avoid answering questions at the wrong end of a shotgun.
    Another thing about Chicago. Dogs were as plentiful as street children. Nobody thought twice if a pack of snarling, fighting dogs careened down a refuse-strewn street. In Chestnut, if a dog so much as sneezed in someone’s yard, a double-barrel shotgun came out from under the bed.
    She backtracked, cut across Main Street, hurried two blocks down, then eased into a darkened alley leading to shantytown. Tinny piano music drifted to the street. The saloons were in full swing and would go on into the wee hours of the morning.
    Wedging herself between a stack of crates and a rain barrel, she set in to wait. If she didn’t miss her guess, her prey would be out in full force tonight. They’d waylay the patrons of the saloons as they came out, hoping to relieve them of any change they might have left. Many times it wasn’t much, but it didn’t take much to buy a