“Round and dainty,” Henry added, “but he sure can go. Look at that action, Alec.… That’s what won him his big races!”

Avenger moved with long strides that belied his smallness. He glided over the track, scarcely seeming to touch it with his flying feet.

“He has the coordination of a machine,” Henry said enthusiastically. “And he won’t make any wrong moves, Alec. I’ll have to tell Lenny to watch him; he’s the kind of a horse who could slip by you without your even knowin’ it.”

Alec turned to his friend. “Henry, what are we going to do about the Black? We just can’t go on like this. We’ve got to make up our minds. It’s not fair to him.”

“What do you think we should do, Alec?” Henry returned.

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think he’s just making a lot of noise … that he wouldn’t fight at all if we took him out with the others. This is all so new to him that it’s only natural he should be excited.”

“I’ve been thinking along those lines, too, Alec. But we could both be wrong,” Henry added.

“Or we could be right,” Alec argued.

“Yes, I suppose we could.”

“He was coming along well until the others got here.”

“That’s just it, Alec … until the others got here, and they’re still here. He’s not making it easy for them, either.”

“I know,” Alec said. “But maybe if we gave him a chance he’d get it out of his system. He needs to work with the others.” The boy paused and added: “We’d know then, Henry. We could take him away if we were absolutely sure he wasn’t going to come around. I’d feel all right about withdrawing him from the race, knowing we’d done all we could.”

“You mean, if we did that, you’d feel that we’d done everything Abu Ishak could have done had he lived?”

“Yes, Henry, I would.”

Lenny Sansone was bringing in Satan, and they turned toward him.

“That enough for him, Henry?” Lenny called.

Nodding, Henry turned back to Alec. “Let’s get him, then,” he said quietly.

“The Black? You mean it, Henry?” Alec asked anxiously.

“Sure. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” the trainer replied, moving off toward the sheds.

They were walking down the row when Jim Neville, the sports columnist, joined them. “Just got in this morning,” he said. “What’s this talk I hear about the Black not racing in the International, Henry?”

“He’s been giving us trouble. We’re not sure yet,” Henry replied, continuing down the row.

“You mean there’s some truth to this talk of Alec’s not being able to handle him?” Jim asked.

The trainer was silent, so Jim turned to Alec. “What do you think, Alec?”

“I don’t know either. If I can’t control him, we’ll withdraw him, Jim. No good could come of it if we raced him.”

“When will you decide?” Jim asked.

“Within a few minutes,” Henry said. “Stick around.”

They were nearing the Black when they saw the crowd gathered in front of El Dorado’s stall. Joining the group, they saw the track veterinarian in the stall with the golden stallion.

Alec overheard a man tell Henry, “El Dorado ran a high fever again last night, and they thought it best to get the vet.”

Going to the stall door, Alec saw the veterinarian standing beside the stallion. El Dorado’s head hung low and he constantly shifted his weight from one leg to another.

After a few minutes the veterinarian left the stall and hurried away. The group remained there for a while, then broke up, with Henry and Alec walking to the Black’s stall.

“What do you think is wrong with El Dorado, Henry?” Alec asked.

The trainer’s face was thoughtful, and he neither turned to the boy nor answered his question. Instead, he said, “Open the top of his door while I get the tack, Alec.”

When Alec opened the door, the Black pushed his head toward him. Then the stallion caught sight of Avenger and Cavaliere coming in from the track, and he uttered his shrill scream.