“Maybe he will.”

They moved into the backstretch with Alec lost from Henry’s sight, for the boy was low beside the Black’s neck and covered by the long, flowing mane. The stallion’s strides were long and effortless, yet every once in a while, for no apparent reason Henry could see, he would strike out playfully without breaking stride. His head would turn very often, too, to look to the left, then to the right, of him.

“They could be out for a joy ride,” Henry muttered. “Yet he’s really moving, and without even tryin’.” His hand went to the stopwatch within his pocket. “If Alec has that much control over him when the others get here, there’ll never be a race to equal it.”

They came around the far turn, and as they passed Henry, Alec waved to him. The stallion went down the stretch with his tail flowing behind him like a black cloak. Going into the first turn again, Henry saw the Black start to level out, and he knew Alec was letting him go.

There was no turning of head or striking of forefoot as the Black came off the turn. He was really moving now and his action was beautiful and breathtaking to see. Henry pressed the stem of his stopwatch when the Black passed the three-quarter pole. He pushed it again when the stallion swept by the quarter pole, then looked at his watch.

“Forty-five seconds flat for the half-mile!” he said aloud.

With thunderous, racing hoofs, the Black passed Henry once more, and this time Alec didn’t wave to him. Henry saw that Alec was trying to bring the stallion to a stop.

When they went into the first turn the Black’s strides were slowing, and by the time they had entered the backstretch again Alec had him down to a slow gallop, then to a trot.

Henry looked at his watch to make sure of the time in which he had caught the Black. He knew that Satan couldn’t run a faster half-mile than the Black had just gone. He turned back to the stallion as Alec brought him slowly around the turn.

He’s got the old speed all right, Henry thought. But I knew that. The question is, will he run or fight? And no one is going to answer that until the others get here. No one … not even Alec.

THE BLACK MEETS
SATAN
11

As the remainder of the week passed and Henry watched Alec take the Black through his daily gallops, he found himself thinking more and more about the possibility of the Black’s actually running in the big race. Alec’s control of the great stallion was impressive to watch, and the boy’s enthusiasm and confidence were transmitted to Henry. It was only when the trainer was alone that he angrily reminded himself it was much too early for optimism … that the Black’s willingness to do what Alec asked of him meant nothing until the Black caught the wind of other stallions. So it was that Henry looked forward anxiously … yet with a feeling of dread, too … to the day the others would arrive.

It came a day earlier than Henry had expected. He and Alec were driving back from town, where they had gone for their evening meal, when they saw the van ahead of them.

“Could it be Satan, Henry?” Alec asked anxiously.

“No. He’s coming in tomorrow morning. Has to be one of the others. El Dorado is my guess.”

“The South American horse?”

Nodding, Henry followed the van through the barn entrance gate and pulled up beside it when it came to a stop before the barn office. “Who y’got?” he asked the van driver.

“El Dorado,” the man replied.

Henry drove on. “Well, it’s the beginning,” he told Alec. “Things will change pretty fast around here from now on.”

“You mean because we won’t have the place to ourselves any longer?”

“Yeah, mostly that,” Henry mumbled.

They were back at the stall only a short time when the van turned down the row, coming to a stop just below them and on the opposite side. Suddenly the Black’s shrill whistle shattered the air, and Alec and Henry turned to him.

He had his head stretched far over the door. His ears were pricked, almost touching at the tips, while his eyes were large and had a startled look. He whistled again and his forefoot struck heavily against the door.

“Shall I close the top of the door, Henry?”

“No, there’s no sense in shutting him up. We’ve got to see what he’ll do from now on.