We go outside now, yes?”

But the reporters weren’t leaving. They had found what they sought; their gazes turned to Alec as one of them jiggled the lock. It was then that the stallion neighed.

“It’s the Black, isn’t it, Alec?” Jim Neville asked quietly.

Wearily Alec nodded.

“We all guessed it was, for the cop described him pretty well. Besides, we figured no other horse could have kept you off Satan in Chicago.”

Now the reporters were asking for the key to the room. They wanted to see the Black to make sure it was he before writing their stories.

Alec walked toward the door, the key in his hand. It mattered little what happened now, for within a few hours the world would know that the Black was once again in the United States. The reporters were asking him many questions and he replied quickly and in as few words as possible. He told them that the Black belonged to him, that Abu Ishak was dead and had bequeathed the stallion to him. He wasn’t going to race the Black. He and Henry had bought a farm. They were taking the Black there within two weeks.

And when he had answered all their questions, he inserted the key in the lock, knowing that they would go as soon as they had seen the stallion. He wanted them to go, to leave him alone with his horse.

The reporters stepped back when he opened the door. The Black was standing there, his eyes large and shifting. Alec held him by the halter while the reporters took one look at the giant stallion and then hurriedly left the barn.

Only Jim Neville remained when Alec led the stallion from the tack room. Tony walked beside the boy but said nothing.

“I’m going to put him in the field, Tony.”

Outside, the huckster ran ahead to open the gate. Napoleon looked up from his grazing and neighed at sight of the Black.

Alec released the stallion, and the Black burst into full gallop, passing Napoleon, who turned and trotted ponderously after him.

“I’m sorry, Aleec,” Tony said.

“I was crazy to think I could keep it from them,” Alec returned bitterly. “It’s all my fault, Tony … no one else’s.”

“What happens now, Aleec?”

“I don’t know, Tony. I really don’t.”

ABU ISHAK’S PROMISE
8

Tony shifted uneasily, for he didn’t know whether or not Alec wanted him to stay around. The boy looked intently at the stallion, following his every move; yet Tony noticed that his eyes were sad. Finally the huckster glanced at Jim Neville, who now sat on the bench outside the barn.

“Why he not go like the others?” Tony asked angrily. “What more he want?”

Without turning from the field, Alec said bitterly, “He’s a columnist, Tony. He’s after the human-interest angle. The others take care of the straight news story, but Jim wants more than that. He wants to know how I feel and why.

“… He wants to dig.”

“I give it to him then,” Tony said furiously. “I make him go quick!” Tony moved away from the fence, but Alec stopped him.

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” Alec said. “It’s his job, and he’s a good friend. I can’t run away anymore. Tomorrow, when the stories break, we’ll have plenty of visitors.”

With Tony beside him, Alec walked toward the barn.

“You want me to stay, Aleec?”

“No, Tony. I’ll get along with Jim all right. If you want to go home, I’ll take care of Napoleon for you.”

Tony left Alec at the barn, and the boy went to the bench, sitting down beside Jim Neville.

“He looks good, Alec,” Jim said, his eyes on the Black.