Part 12 (2/2)
Alec shrugged his shoulders.
”Should be a corker!” Bill went on. ”Wonder who the mystery horse is going to turn out to be?”
”Probably some ham-and-egger,” chirped up Whiff. ”Cyclone will walk away with it.”
”Not with Sun Raider in the race,” Bill said. ”Who do you think's going to win, Alec?”
Alec smiled. ”Well, the only one you fellows leave me is the mystery horse-so I guess I'll take him.”
”You're stuck,” Bill laughed.
”We'll see,” grinned Alec. He turned as he went out the door. ”So long, fellas,” he said.
”So long.”
When he reached home, he found his father waiting for him. They didn't talk about the race while eating lunch. Then they went over to the barn. Alec wasn't nervous. Instead he was calm and eager to match the Black's speed against Cyclone and Sun Raider.
In front of the barn Alec saw Henry and Jim Neville. Both of them were going to Chicago with Alec and the Black. Then there was Joe Russo and another man with a camera. Just to the side of them stood a large horse van. Alec and his father greeted the small group.
”Everything all set, Alec?” Henry asked.
”I suppose you took that exam in your stride today,” Jim Neville kidded.
”Hope so,” Alec answered. But his thoughts were turning forward. He nodded toward the van. ”Guess we're going to the train in style, heh, Henry?”
”Sure!” Henry said. ”And we're going out to Chicago in style, too. Jim tells me we have our own private car waiting for us at the station!”
”No!” Alec exclaimed.
”Yep. Isn't that so, Jim?”
”Yes,” Jim replied. ”Cyclone and Sun Raider got out to Chicago in special cars; there's no reason why the Black shouldn't. Besides, a lot of people are coming from far and wide to see these three horses, so they have to be at their best.”
”That's fine with me,” Alec said.
”Look what Jim gave us,” Henry said. He held out a heavy, black horse blanket with a white border around it and white letters in the middle spelling THE BLACK.
”Gee, Jim, that's great,” Alec said.
”Can't let 'em have anything on the Black.” Jim smiled.
The stallion whinnied when Alec entered the barn. Alec took a soft cloth and wiped it over his large body. ”Well, fella,” he said, ”we're off to the races.” Henry tossed him the new blanket and Alec snapped it around the stallion. ”There,” he said proudly, ”that'll keep you nice and warm.”
”Sure makes him look like the real stuff,” Henry said.
”He is the real stuff.” Alec stroked the stallion's neck.
Then he led him out of the barn. The Black reared when he saw the small crowd. Then he lifted his legs high and stepped gingerly in a circle.
”Let us take some pictures for the paper, will you, Alec?” Joe Russo asked.
”Sure,” Alec answered. ”Come on, Henry, you get into it, too.”
Ten minutes pa.s.sed while the photographer snapped pictures. Even Alec's father got into them. ”Hope you'll be able to use these photos,” Alec smiled, ”after Sat.u.r.day.”
The Black reared again as the boy started to lead him up into the van. He neighed loudly and his head turned toward the barn; his ears p.r.i.c.ked forward and his eyes s.h.i.+fted from Alec to the barn.
”What's the matter, fella?” Alec asked.
”I know,” Henry said. ”Every time we've put him into the truck, he's had Napoleon with him. Now he's wondering where he is!”
”You're right!” Alec said. ”But we just have to get him in anyway. Come on, Black.” But the stallion reared again, and when he came down he pushed his head into Alec's chest, shoving him back toward the barn.
”Napoleon isn't in there, fella,” Alec said. ”He's out working with Tony.” But the Black only pushed harder.
Fifteen minutes later Alec was still trying to get him into the van. ”I'm afraid it's no use,” he said. ”When he gets his mind set on something, n.o.body's going to change it!”
Jim Neville glanced at his watch. ”Getting late,” he warned. ”If we don't start within a few minutes, we'll never make the train-and there isn't another until tomorrow!”
”Black,” Alec pleaded, ”come on!” But the stallion only pranced around him, his nostrils quivering and his eyes looking for Napoleon. Suddenly his ears p.r.i.c.ked forward. From far down the street came a familiar voice, ”Apples, carrots, string beans, potatoes, cabbages, peas.”
”It's Tony and Napoleon,” Alec exclaimed. ”They're on our street!”
”I'll get 'em,” yelled Henry as he made a dash for the gate.
A few minutes later Napoleon loped down the street at his fastest trot. Tony and Henry sat in the seat of the wagon gripping the sides desperately as Napoleon dashed into the driveway.
The Black neighed loudly; his head turned toward them. Napoleon's old legs made the gravel fly. He rushed to the Black and shoved his nose up at him.
Tony and Henry jumped off the seat. ”Dio mio,” exclaimed Tony, ”what's-a da matta with heem?”
Henry told Tony how they had taken Napoleon with them when they trained the Black at Belmont and how now the Black was going to run in the big match race in Chicago. ”And now, Tony,” Henry finished, ”we can't get him in the van because we're not taking Napoleon.”
Jim Neville spoke up. ”Tony,” he said, ”would it be all right with you if we took Napoleon with us to the race?”
Alec began to feel more hopeful. ”Do you think we could, Jim?” he asked.
”Sure, if Tony'll let us. There's plenty of room on the train, and we're sure to find a stable for him out there. What do you say, Tony? We'll have him back to you by Sunday night, or Monday at the latest. And to make everything square, we'll pay you for Napoleon's time!”
Tony looked at Napoleon standing with his head beside the Black's. He was silent a minute; then his dark face creased into a grin. ”Sure,” he said, ”why not? But no money, thanks please. He's been-a da good horse for fifteen years-now he's gonna have da vacation.”
”Atta boy, Tony,” Alec said. ”It's going to mean a lot to the Black-and to us, too.”
”You betcha,” Tony said proudly, as he put a caressing hand on Napoleon's neck.
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