So what's yer name, kid? Real name, I mean--first an' last. I gotta keep accurate records or the city gets on me back, but I ain't gonna share 'em wit no one.

Anthony Sean Higgins, at yer service. Me fam'ly called me Tony. So does Spot once in a while, when he's in a real serious mood.

Ya gots a nickname? How'd ya get it?

Racetrack, on account o' spendin' half my time down at the Sheepshead Races, bettin' on horses. Most folks just calls me Race.

Know how old ya are? When were ya born? The boys all likes to chip in an' make ya feel special. By which I mean, they likes any excuse for a party.

I'm sixteen, born June 12, 1883.

Now describe yer appearance for me. Try an' be detailed. My mem'ry ain't what it useta be, an' if I hears about a vicious killer on the loose, I wanna be able to check my records an' make the connection.

I got the look of a full-blooded Italian, even though I'm half Irish. Dark brown hair, almost black, an' brown eyes. I ain't exactly got much in the way o' height, an' folks say I got a baby face--both fine wit me, since it makes people take me less seriously at the gamblin' halls. Suckers, every one of 'em. *smirks*

Got any odder job 'sides sellin' papes? Legal or illegal, I ain't gonna squeal on ya.

I get a pretty steady income from cards an' dice, but I wouldn't really call it a job. 'Sides, I just lose it all down at the tracks.

All right, time for the big one. What kinda person are ya, kid? Got any quirks, dreams, fears? How d'you treat odders? How d'you treat yerself? We gets all kinds here, so be honest--I just wanna know what to expect.

Guess you could say I've got a smart mouth. Jack says it at least ten times a day, but he owes me eight bucks an' change, so what's his word worth, really? I knows all the tricks o' poker, blackjack, faro, an' craps, an' I can win widdout usin' any of 'em. I can tell you the odds on any horse at the tracks, but the horses likes to change 'em up...every damn race. *grins ruefully* Anyway, I likes a little excitement in life--takin' risks, bettin' on longshots. I'm real loyal to me friends, an' I expect the same o' them; only thing I can't stand is a traitor. *mutters something about Cowboy* But mostly, I'm just a laidback, friendly, fun-lovin' guy...who will win all yer money. All of it. Wit no regrets. *winks cheerfully*

Got any hobbies? Whaddaya do wit yer spare time?

Pretty sure I already covered this. When I ain't sellin' papes, it's all cards, dice, an' horses, or spendin' time wit me friends--havin' a chat or a drink or a bite to eat.

How 'bout vices or bad habits? Smokin', drinkin', gamblin'? I want 'cha to promise to keep 'em outside the house.

I don't drink much, but I smokes cigars like they's goin' outta style, an' as for gamblin'...well, I go to wolf traps, whaddaya 'spect? *smirks at your confusion* That's a low-class kinda gamblin' den. The games are honest there 'cause everyone knows that one false move gets you a knife in the back. I've mixed wit some types that the bulls would sooner hang on sight than put on trial, but I never did worse than a bit o' cheatin' an' unlicensed gamin'. *pause* Or, y'know, a lot. Also, I ain't exactly careful wit money. An' I can't keep me mouth shut to save me life. Literally. But that's about it! *smiles charmingly so Kloppman won't notice that he refrained from making any promises*

Got any fam'ly or friends 'round here? Or enemies, for that matter? Tell me who ya knows in the area.

Heck, I knows 'most everyone. Here at Duane Street, I'm closest to Jack, Blink, an' Mush; I'm also real good friends wit Spot Conlon's girl, Raven, over in Brooklyn. As for Spot, well...him and me go way back, an' when the chips are down, we'll be at each odder's sides. The rest o' the time, though... *shrugs wryly* There's a reason I left. *pauses* Only fam'ly I got in the city is a couple o' cousins over in Five Points, but I ain't talked to 'em in a while. *looks somewhat uncomfortable*

An' maybe a special someone? I got a special set o' rules when it comes to that sorta t'ing.

No one at the moment, but I gots a t'ing for unattainable redheads. *smirks*

Fin'ly, every boy's favorite question... *chuckles darkly* What can ya tell me 'bout yer past? Where'd ya grow up, what brought ya here, an' what happened in between?

I was born in a Brooklyn tenement to an Irish fadder an' Italian mudder. Lost 'em both to typhus when I was six, along wit me little brudder. I got sent to a Catholic orphanage, but what wit the small size an' the big mouth, I wasn't gonna last long. Then this older guy kinda took me under his wing--taught me all manner o' cards an' dice, an' we useta sneak off to the tracks to see the horses run. But one day, we got caught, an' they sent me friend to the Refuge for gamblin' an' 'corruptin' a younger child.' I got off wit a warnin', but the orphanage wasn't lookin' too hospitable no more, so I run off.

Well, I made a bit of a name for m'self, whippin' guys t'ree times my age at poker, an' that kept me from goin' hungry. But one day, a couple o' guys caught me bein'...not entirely honest wit the cards (I was seven! Hadn't perfected me skills yet!). They dragged me into an alley, an' I figgered I was done for. Then this odder scrawny, smart-aleck kid came outta nowhere an' started shootin' marbles from a slingshot...well, that's how I met Spot Conlon. He took me back to that lodgin' house o' his, and we was friends an' Brooklyn newsies for the next seven years. Fin'ly, Spot went t'rough some dark times or somethin'--damned if I know--anyway, he got kinda cold an' scary an' hard to live wit, an' we had a fight or two, an' I took off. Been at Duane Street ever since. But I knows I can still call in a favor in Brooklyn, should I ever need to.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Profile By: Flare Higgins

E-mail Address: FlareHiggins@yahoo.com

AIM or Other Screen Name(s): Flare_Higgins (AIM) (noticing a pattern?)

Character Song: The Gambler by Kenny Rogers