He turned uneasily in his bed, his back to the open window that looked out upon the field. His eyes remained closed as he mumbled, “I’m hearing things. It’s Sunday. I don’t have to go to the track today. Satan is taking a rest. No horse within miles … only Napoleon, and he’s not working today, either. Must be early … very early.”

He opened his eyes to look at the clock on his bureau. It was only a little past six o’clock. He was closing his eyes when the pounding beat of hoofs came again. He sat straight up in bed. The Black! Alec!

He ran to the window, carrying his bed covers with him in his haste. He saw the fast-moving black figure coming up the field. But he didn’t see Alec, for the boy was stuck like a burr high on the Black’s withers and half-hidden by the whipping mane. Henry glanced at the barn, then back at the running stallion before he saw the boy.

“That crazy kid!” he said. “He shoulda waited for me.”

Henry reached for his clothes on a nearby chair and pulled them on hurriedly, but his eyes never left Alec and the racing Black.

The stallion’s strides shortened as he neared the fence, slowing to turn across the field. Henry saw then that he wore neither bridle nor saddle and that Alec was guiding him by pressing his hands hard against the Black’s neck.

“Alec can’t see anythin’ bad in that horse,” Henry said, shaking his head. “He never will, an’ maybe that’s why he gets away with it.” Henry drew on his shirt more slowly. “No sense in my gettin’ excited now. He’s up and havin’ no trouble.”

Henry marveled at the Black’s bursts of speed in the short field. There was a wildness to his every move, yet it seemed the stallion was ready to obey Alec’s slightest command. Now the great strides slowed as Alec moved his body back and away from the long neck. Henry saw the Black paw the air at a bird which rose a few feet in front of him, but he did it without breaking stride.

A short distance from the hollow Alec brought him to a stop, and the stallion lowered his head to graze.

Henry turned away from the window, looking for his shoes. When he found them, he sat down.

“If I could only keep it this way for him,” he said aloud. “If it was just him and the Black, I don’t think he’d have trouble with him. But just let the press get wise he’s here and they’ll raise such a clamor Alec will have to race him. It’ll be a different story then.… Put that devil on a track with the wind of other stallions in his nostrils an’ he’ll forget all about Alec’s bein’ up there on his back. I don’t want to see that. I aim to do all I can to keep it from happenin’.”

Henry bent down, and long after he had his shoes on he remained hunched over, his eyes focused on the floor. When he straightened, his face was a brilliant red from the blood that had rushed to his head. But tiny flecks of light pinpointed his eyes as he said excitedly, “I’ve got it.