Then it’ll still be your name on the owner’s sheet, and your colors, too. I’m sure your father will understand.”

Alec smiled grimly. “My dad … a race horse owner? Do you think he’d have any part of the colt after today? Are you serious, Henry?”

“Sure, I’m serious. Your father oughta know that what happened today was partly Sebastian’s fault. He oughta know that.”

“But, Henry, Dad doesn’t even like horses. He wouldn’t have any part of it, I know.”

“I’m not tellin’ you you don’t know your own father,” Henry said, “but I’ve seen his eyes light up at times when he used to watch the Black. An’ I saw it again today with the colt. Just once’t and only for a second,” he admitted, “but that’s all that was necessary. He’s not against horses, Alec. Don’t you think that.”

“But if he won’t do it, Henry,” Alec’s words came slowly, “will you? Can a trainer own a race horse?”

“Yes,” Henry replied quietly, “a trainer can own a race horse, Alec. And I’ll do it, if your dad won’t. I guess there isn’t anything I’d like more in the world than to see the son of the Black runnin’ in my name. But that’s not the way it should be. He’s your horse, Alec, and your name belongs on him … with you up on his back, riding in your silks. The two of you are goin’ places. I’ve had my day, Alec, and now I just wanta sit back an’ watch. Another reason I shouldn’t own the colt,” he added, his brow furrowing, “is that the names of all new horses and owners registered with the Jockey Club are published in the Racing Calendar … that’s the official racing magazine. Boldt reads it religiously. He’d see my name and might get to thinkin’ I had something up my sleeve. But I don’t think the name William Ramsay would register with him. It’s better that you speak to your father, Alec.”

“Okay, Henry.…”

It was almost dark when the van turned down their block, and behind him Alec heard the colt’s hoofs impatiently strike the wooden floor. There was no alternative now, he thought, but to tell his father of the plans to race Satan. He couldn’t put it off for months as he’d intended to do. And now his father’s reaction would be all the more important, because he was to play a part in the racing of the colt. Alec felt the tight, hard ball in his stomach again. Would his father understand how much this meant to him? Would he agree to race Satan in his name … their name? Was Henry right? … Did his father really have a feeling for horses? A feeling that might make him understand? Then Alec remembered his dad’s words as they were driving to the pier: “You’ve had enough excitement to last a lifetime … take it easy … go for nice slow rides through the park … just make a pal of him.” Alec wondered, and swallowed hard. Then there was school. He had to tell his father that he didn’t want to go back. And there was Sebastian, too. If the dog was critically hurt, he’d never forgive himself for letting the colt get away, even if it had been partly Sebastian’s fault.