Part 4 (1/2)

Then he took hold of the halter and led the Black toward the door. The policeman moved to one side. The stallion reared again when he again saw the lights and the crowd. Alec quickly turned him and went back to the stall.

The officer spoke up, ”Take off your sweater, kid, and blindfold him.”

”Good idea.” Quickly he drew off his sweater. He led the stallion to a box, and stepped on it so as to reach his eyes. He folded the sweater and placed it across them, tying it in the back. The stallion jerked his head and tried to toss it off. He half-reared. Alec's a.s.suring hand and voice calmed him down.

Once again he led him toward the door. When they appeared in the doorway, the crowd shouted. Carefully Alec led the stallion down the plank. He saw the stallion's ears p.r.i.c.k forward and then go flat back against his head. His breathing became heavier. He shook his head and half-reared again. Alec glanced below; it seemed that thousands of upturned faces were watching them.

Halfway down, the Black again reared into the air. Once again Alec felt himself start to leave the gangplank. He let the rope slide through his hands. The stallion went high and then descended. Alec dodged the front hoofs. White-faced, he led the Black down. A few more feet and they were on the dock. The crowd shoved aside quickly to get out of the stallion's path.

The Black made a beautiful sight. He moved lightly on his feet; he tossed his head trying to rid himself of the blindfold; his mane waved in the wind. Alec's white sweater across his eyes made a sharp contrast against his coal-black body. ”He's getting used to the noises,” thought Alec, but he never relaxed his hold on the stallion.

Suddenly he heard his father's voice. ”Alec, Alec-here we are!” He turned, saw his mother and father standing on the edge of the crowd-Dad just as tall and thin as ever, Mother just as short and plump. Their faces were as white as the sweater across the Black's eyes. Alec moved toward them, then he remembered the stallion. He saw his mother grip his father's arm. He stopped a short distance away from them.

”h.e.l.lo, Mother and Dad!” was all he said, though his heart was full. He could see his mother had been crying. Grasping the end of the rope so as to keep hold of the Black, Alec ran up to her, threw his arms around both of them.

”It's good to see you, Alec,” his father said after a few minutes.

”It's good to be home,” answered Alec. His mother smiled.

The Black moved restlessly beside him. Alec looked at him, then at his parents. ”He's mine,” he said proudly.

”I was afraid of that,” said his father. His mother was too astonished to say anything. He saw his father's eyes going over the stallion. He had done a lot of riding in his day and it was from him that Alec, even as a small child, had learned to love horses. He said nothing, but Alec could tell that he was admiring the Black.

”I'll tell you the whole story later. I owe my life to him.”

His mother seemed to have regained control of herself. ”But he's so dangerous, son-he threw you down-” But she stopped, puzzled, as she met the calm, self-reliant look in the eyes of the boy who was holding the horse. This couldn't be her son, the boy who had left her only five months ago!

”What are you going to do with him, now that you've got him?” asked his father.

”I don't know, Dad, but I do know where I can keep him!” The words poured out of his mouth. He knew that he must convince his parents right now, once and for all, that the Black must be his-for keeps. ”There's that old barn in the old Halleran place up the street where the Daileys are living now. I'm sure they'd let me keep him there for almost nothing, and he'd have a whole acre of ground to graze in! I'll work, Dad, after school, to make money to pay for his feed. Let me keep him, won't you?”

”We'll see, son,” said his father quietly. He smiled rea.s.suringly at Alec's mother. ”We'll take him home and see how it works out. Only remember, Alec, he's your responsibility-yours to take care of and yours to feed. You've got a big job on your hands. I'll see to it that he gets to Flus.h.i.+ng, but from then on it's up to you!”

A young man made his way cautiously around the Black and walked up to them. He carried a camera in one hand, with the other he removed his hat, disclosing hair as black as the stallion's body. ”Pardon me,” he said to Alec, ”I'm Joe Russo of the Daily Telegram. I'd like to take a few pictures and get your story. I understand you're the only survivor of the Drake that went down off the coast of Portugal.”

Alec pointed to the Black. ”He was there, too,” he said.

”Say, this is a story!” Joe Russo exclaimed. ”You mean that horse was on the boat, too?”

”Yes,” Alec answered. ”He certainly was.”

”What happened when the boat sank?” Joe asked, genuinely interested. He wrote hastily with his pencil.

”It's too long to tell you now,” Alec replied. ”Besides there is so much to be done around here....” He turned to the Black, who was moving restlessly.

”Let me help you with him,” Joe said with all the persistence of a young reporter. ”You're going to need a van to get him home, and I think I know where I can get one. Then later on you can give me the whole story!”

”Okay,” Alec said, grateful for any a.s.sistance with the immediate problem of getting the Black home.

NAPOLEON.

8.

An hour later Alec led the Black into a covered truck that Joe Russo had secured to carry him home. His mother had gone ahead, driving the family car. ”You won't get me to ride with that horse!” she had said. His father sat in front with Joe Russo and the driver. Alec, afraid to leave the Black alone, stood in the rear with him. The stallion snorted as the truck began to move into the street. His eyes were still covered with the sweater.

Taxicabs roared past, their horns blowing loudly. Trucks rattled toward the s.h.i.+p to pick up cargo. Men shouted in the streets. Cart peddlers clamored their wares. Noise, noise, noise-this was the Black's introduction to New York.

Alec's hand was firm on the halter. Out of the small window in back of the driver he could see the buildings blazing with lights. New York seemed strange to him, too-he had forgotten. The stallion moved uneasily, his head jerked in an attempt to throw off the sweater. ”Whoa, Boy,” said Alec. He patted the smooth, black coat. Down through the city streets they went.

Alec's father kept looking around, as if he couldn't take his eyes off Alec and the stallion. Slowly the truck moved in and out of the traffic. An elevated train roared overhead. The stallion whistled and half-rose, almost hitting the top of the truck. Alec pulled him down.

Gradually the traffic lessened. They moved farther out of the busienss section and turned toward Flus.h.i.+ng. The worst was over now, and the Black was quiet. Alec was free to think of what fun it was going to be to ride him in that big field near the barn-if they would only let him keep him there.

Then the van was going down the main street of Flus.h.i.+ng. Alec peered out the window eagerly. It was good to see the familiar stores and buildings again. Two more blocks and they turend down a side street. Another ten minutes, and Alec saw his own house on the right. His father turned and smiled at him through the window. Alec smiled back.

The truck rolled on past and down the street to the old Halleran house. The van turned into the driveway past a large sign that said TOURISTS. It came to a stop in front of the door.

Alec's father came around to the side of the van. ”Okay, Alec,” he said, ”it's up to you now. Better go in and see whether Mrs. Dailey will let you keep him in the barn.”

Alec let go of the Black's halter. ”Take it easy, Boy,” he said. Then he jumped off the van, went up the porch steps and rang the doorbell. The Daileys had moved into the old Halleran place shortly before Alec went to India, so he wasn't very well acquainted with Mrs. Dailey, who now came to the door. She was a large, comfortable-looking, heavy-set woman.

”h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Dailey,” Alec said. ”Remember me?”

”Why, you're the young lad from up the street, but they told me-” She paused in obvious amazement. ”They told me that you had been drowned in a s.h.i.+pwreck.”

”We were rescued,” Alex said. ”Just got home tonight.”

”Your mother and father must be awfully thankful,” she said. ”You must have had an awful time!”

”It was pretty bad, Mrs. Dailey-but what I wanted to see you about, Mrs. Dailey, was-well, I brought back a horse with me-we were rescued together.”

”A horse!” she exclaimed.

”Yes,” said Alec, ”and Dad told me I could keep him if I found a place for him to stay. I'd like to put him in one of the stalls in your barn-I'll pay you for it,” he added.

”But the barn isn't in very good shape, son,” said Mrs. Dailey. She smiled. ”And we already have a boarder in the one good stall!”

”A boarder?”

”Yes, Tony, the huckster, keeps old Napoleon down there now.”

”Napoleon? Do you mean the old gray horse he's always had?” Alec asked.

”Yes, that's the one-seems to me he should die any day now, though, then you'll be able to use his stall!”