“Henry has done a wonderful job training him, Dad. Satan will go for anyone now … anyone who will just sit there and tell him what to do. He’s come a long way since …” Alec stopped without finishing his sentence.

Mr. Ramsay’s face sobered. “You’ve done your part making him what he is today,” he said quickly. “Don’t you forget that, Alec—not for one moment. He was a pretty bad colt before you taught him to have confidence and trust in human beings. Henry’s gone on from where you left off. He’s made a superb racing machine of Satan, but always remember he couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Sure, Dad,” Alec said. “I’ll remember.”

They had passed the stands, and their eyes now turned to the long rows of barn sheds a short distance away. They could see the grooms walking their horses under vivid-colored cooling sheets.

“How’d Mother take the race?” Alec asked as they walked down the road.

“Fine. Just fine, except for Satan’s stumble at the break. But she came out of it as well as he did. And when the race was over I heard her telling the people sitting next to us that your hands kept Satan on his feet. She’s getting to be quite a racetracker, Alec,” he added proudly.

As they neared the sheds they saw the crowd gathered in front of Satan’s stall.

“The photographers are still here, I see,” Mr. Ramsay said. “And there’s Mother with …” He stopped and hastily put up the umbrella. “I almost forgot,” he said, winking at Alec.

The photographers left the shelter of the shed’s roof when they saw Alec Ramsay. They took pictures as he came toward them. They had him stop and asked Mr. Ramsay to put his arm around him, to put the umbrella back a bit, to smile. They took more pictures; then someone called Mrs. Ramsay.

She came through the crowd at the insistence of a photographer: a small, plump woman with a very round face. Her eyes were a little bewildered, but she smiled bravely at Alec and slipped over beside him, holding his arm close to her. She faced the camera, but the photographers told her to look at Alec instead.

“You, too, Mr. Ramsay. Look at Alec and smile. Make it real homey. You’re the proud parents. There, that’s it.