Whether you like to think of it or not,” he added quietly.

The stallion came up the field toward them, and Alec slipped through the rails to go to meet him. He ran his hands down the long neck, lifting the heavy mane to scratch beneath it. He stayed there for many minutes before finally going back to Jim Neville.

“I don’t believe Satan or any horse in the world could match strides with him,” he said.

Jim smiled. “You mean you’ll race him, Alec?”

Alec shook his head. “No, Jim. I’m going to take him away, just as I’d planned.”

Shrugging his broad shoulders, Jim said, “He’s your horse, Alec, to do with as you like.” He paused before adding, “But there’s something else you should know about before I leave. It might make things a little more difficult for you, so it’s only right that you should be prepared for it.” The columnist removed a folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket. “I have here a list of the horses entered in the International Cup race. I managed to get the list before any other sports-writer … but they’ll all have it tomorrow.”

Jim Neville unfolded the paper before continuing. “You know, Alec, there won’t be another race to equal this one. It’s been more than a year in the making. The Association sent invitations to the owners of the world’s fastest racers many months ago. This is a list of those horses whose owners accepted the invitations, and they’ll all be in the United States next month.”

“I know about the race,” Alec said impatiently. “Satan was invited to run in it. Henry sent in his entry right after the Belmont.”

“Yes,” Jim Neville said without taking his eyes from the list, “his name is here all right. Like to know what his competition will be?”

“Sure.”

“Well, there’s Phar Fly, the Australian wonder horse; and Cavaliere, who won the Italian Derby in May; from India they’re sending Kashmir, who won the Epsom Derby in England last year; and this year’s Epsom Derby winner is coming here, too—that’s Sea King, a British-bred colt, who is as highly thought of in England as Satan is here; then from France comes Avenger, who has won both the Irish and French Derbies this year; and from Argentina we’ll have El Dorado, who has whipped just about everything in South America; then there’s …”

“But what has this race to do with the Black, Jim?” Alec interrupted.

“A lot,” Jim Neville said, lifting his eyes from the paper to meet those of the boy. “His name is here, too. He was entered by his owner, Abu Ishak of Arabia, six months ago.”

The blood drained from Alec’s face, and he stood before Jim Neville, dazed and silent.

“Abu Ishak had planned to race the Black in the International, Alec. In all probability he was going to ask you to ride him.”

Alec said nothing, and after a long while he turned to the field.

“If you remember,” Jim Neville went on, “Abu Ishak promised to bring the Black over here to race. It looks as if he had intended to keep his promise.” The columnist paused before adding, “When this list is released tomorrow simultaneously with your story, the public will just expect you to keep the Black in the International. They’ll figure you owe it to them.”

Alec found his voice. “Not to them,” he said quietly, “but to Abu.” Meeting Jim Neville’s gaze, he asked, “Abu wanted it that way, didn’t he? He wanted to race the Black in the International Cup. He was going to keep his promise to race the Black here. I should have known he would.”

“Since Abu Ishak had entered the Black in the race,” Jim Neville said, “I’m sure that the Association will consider the Black as his entry and allow you to ride him even though he belongs to you now.”

“Yes,” Alec said slowly, “I suppose they would.”

“Then you’ll race him?”

“What else can I do, Jim? Abu wanted him to race in the International … so that’s the way it’s going to be regardless of how I feel about it. It’s the least I can do … for him.”

THE BLACK’S PUBLIC
9

Early in the afternoon of the following day Alec sat in his bedroom before an open window. Outside, the scene was far different from the tranquil one that had met his gaze until this day. For along the fence and far across the sidewalk and into the street were gathered hundreds of people waiting to see the Black.

Since early morning they had come, and Alec had been escorting two persons at a time into the barn. Now, while he took a rest, his father stood beside the locked gate, explaining to the crowd that the Black was too excited to be put in the field for all to see and that they would have to wait for Alec to take them into the barn.

The newspapers which were responsible for it all were strewn about the room, and the sports page headlines read: “THE BLACK FOUND IN FLUSHING—Famous Sire of Satan Owned by Alec Ramsay” … “THE BLACK RETURNS TO U.S.—Abu Ishak Bequeaths Stallion to Alec Ramsay.” And there were others, all telling the world that he now owned the Black.

It was only Jim Neville who had the exclusive story of what lay ahead of them, and Alec turned to his column.

“Those of us,” Jim wrote, “who saw the Black defeat Sun Raider and Cyclone four years ago at Chicago will never forget the tremendous speed of this giant stallion. With the years that have passed since that day, his spectacular victory has become to some a myth. So it is well that we shall all have the opportunity to see him race again.