“What about it?”

“I loaned one of our buckets to the fellow who took care of him.”

Henry halted in his tracks. “But he didn’t give it back to you, did he?”

“He did, Henry … that same afternoon.”

Proceeding again, Henry said with feigned lightness, “I don’t think it matters, Alec. There’s very little chance …”

“But I don’t like to think of that … even a little chance.”

“You been usin’ the bucket? You remember which one it was?”

They turned down Row C. “Yes, Henry, I’ve been using it to water the Black.” Alec’s face was twisted in his anxiety.

“I’m sure nothin’ will come of it,” Henry said. “The contact with the infected horse has to be more intimate than that to catch swamp fever.”

“But the vet said they shouldn’t be watered from the same buckets,” Alec returned insistently.

“He probably meant at the same time,” Henry replied. “No sense worryin’ about it now, Alec. Let’s get rid of the bucket and forget it. The Black has shown no symptoms of swamp fever and all that was a couple of weeks ago.”

“The vet said some horses don’t show any symptoms at all.”

“Cut it out, Alec,” Henry said angrily. “You’re not makin’ it any easier for yourself or for me. Why jump ahead looking for trouble? We can’t do anything now but wait.”

When they reached the stall Alec went to the stallion while Henry said, “I’ll get Satan ready first.”

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Alec said quietly.

The Black nuzzled his fingers. Tears came to the boy’s eyes while he looked at the stallion. He started to say something to him but found he couldn’t talk. Turning away, he saw Satan’s head pushed over his stall door. The Black nipped playfully at Alec’s shirt for attention. But just now he couldn’t look at either of his horses.

EXILED!
14

It was a little after noon when the vans left the International track. As they went through the barn gate, turning onto the highway, Henry said to Alec, “A racetrack named for a race that never was run … that’s ironical.” Shrugging his shoulders, he added, “But maybe next year it’ll come off. At least that’s what they’re planning.”

“Maybe it will,” Alec muttered. “But how many of these horses will be around to be in it?”

“There you go again,” Henry replied sullenly. “Cut it out, Alec.”

“I’m sorry, Henry.”

Closely following the car driven by the State Veterinarian, the seven vans carrying Satan, the Black, Sea King, Avenger, Phar Fly, Kashmir and Cavaliere went through town. People lined the streets, watching the procession with sober but curious faces.

Henry grimaced as he looked at the people. “You’d think it was a funeral procession,” he said angrily. “Why, you’d think …” he stopped, turning to Alec. “We’re just making sure,” he added emphatically. “The vet said the chances are all in our favor that none of the horses contracted swamp fever from El Dorado.”

“I know,” Alec said quietly. “That’s what you said before, Henry.”

Their gazes met, and Henry was the first to turn away. “I told you your dad was driving up to join us, didn’t I?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Yes, you did.”

“He was leaving right away,” Henry continued. “So I told him to meet us at the inn in Mountainview … that’s the town near the state farm. At least that’s what they told me in the office.”

They had left the track far behind and were now going northwest on a highway which stretched toward a vivid panorama of woods and mountains. The van directly ahead of them carried Satan; it had been provided, together with a driver, by the Race Secretary. His eyes upon the van, Alec asked, “How did Lenny and Fred take your sending them back to the city?”

“They wanted to see it through, but what could they do?” Henry asked.