Ramsay. You know that farm upstate that Alec and I had in mind to buy when Satan was through racin’?”

Nodding, Mr. Ramsay said, “You two were going to start your own stud farm.”

“Well, now we don’t have to wait for Satan,” Henry said. “We got the Black. An’ I’m goin’ to suggest to Alec we buy that farm right now an’ take the Black there.”

“Henry! That’s a great idea!” Mr. Ramsay half-shouted. “We’ve got the money for it. He’ll do it. I’m sure he will.”

Together they turned to the field, and Henry was about to call Alec when he saw a tractor-trailer coming down the boulevard. He decided to wait until it had passed before attracting Alec’s attention. Suddenly there was a sharp, shattering retort from the truck as it backfired. The Black bolted. Alec lurched backward as the stallion’s swift move caught him unprepared. The boy’s hands reached behind him to find the Black’s quarters, then his right leg swung over the stallion and he slid off the Black, his feet landing lightly on the ground.

The Black slowed to a trot when he neared the fence and saw the two men standing on the other side. Snorting, he shook his head, then turned in Alec’s direction. For a few minutes he looked at the boy walking up the field, then he lowered his head to graze again.

When Alec neared them Henry said, “You weren’t ready for him. That’s the way you get hurt.”

Alec stopped beside the stallion, his hand upon him; then he went over to the fence. “I know,” he said. “It won’t happen again.”

“There’s too much noise around here for him, Alec,” his father said.

“Yeah,” Henry agreed quickly. “Not enough room, either. Why don’t you take him outa here?”

The boy turned from his father to Henry, his eyes puzzled. “Take him where?”

“Your father and I were just talkin’ about that farm we were goin’ to buy, where we could breed and raise our own colts. I’m ready to start right now, Alec. We got more than enough money with what Satan has won.”

“And I’m ready, too,” Mr. Ramsay added hastily. “That is … if you’ll hire me as your accountant.”

Bewildered, Alec turned from them to the Black, then back to Henry. “You mean with the Black?”

“Why not? We’ve got our stallion. We don’t have to wait for Satan.”

Alec’s face was brilliant with eagerness, but then his eyes clouded as he asked, “But what about you, Henry? You couldn’t come now … not with Satan racing.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Henry admitted. “But that’s not stoppin’ you from goin’ ahead and setting things up for us. Get the farm in working order an’ even start thinkin’ about the mares we oughta buy to breed to the Black.