The medallion didn’t mean anything to him, at any rate.”

“I think it did, Henry … for some reason I can’t explain.”

The van had stopped in front of the barn. Henry walked to the door, followed by Alec.

Abu Ishak and a policeman were coming up the driveway. “I’ll talk to him now. You stay here,” Henry told Alec.

The stallion neighed and Alec went to him.

Ten minutes later the Arab entered the barn with Henry close behind. Alec’s eyes swept to Henry’s face and saw what he’d hoped he wouldn’t see.

“He won’t sell, Alec.” It was Henry’s voice. Alec looked at Abu Ishak.

“You won’t, sir … not for any price?” he asked.

The Arab’s eyes met Alec’s. They seemed kind and Alec waited hopefully. “Mr. Dailey has told me how much my horse means to you. But, my son, an Arab’s horse is not for sale; our horses are part of ourselves. At home we have our families, but in the desert our horses are our only company, and men do not sell their friends.” He paused, withdrawing a wallet from his inside coat pocket. “I’d like to repay you for all you have done. Will you take this?”

Alec shook his head. “No, thanks, sir,” he replied quietly.

Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak looked at Henry. They both knew that it was useless to attempt to alter Alec’s decision.

The driver of the van, who had been standing just inside the door, moved toward the stall. In his hand he held a lead rope. Abu Ishak stopped him. “I’ll take him,” he said.

Alec and Henry watched as Abu approached the stall. He moved quietly and without hesitation. Reaching the door, he opened it. The stallion’s body trembled but he didn’t strike, nor were his teeth bared. If Alec had any doubts about Abu’s being the owner of the Black, they were gone, for no one, with the exception of Henry and himself, had ever approached the stallion without being struck at by hoofs that moved with the speed of a striking cobra.

Abu Ishak walked up to the stallion, unafraid. He placed a hand gently upon the Black’s glistening neck. He spoke to him softly in Arabic and the stallion’s ears pricked forward. Swiftly Abu Ishak fastened the lead rope to the halter. He ran his hands down the stallion’s legs; then, taking a step backward, he stood staring at him. Many men had looked at the Black, but Alec had never seen one look like this. Finally, he turned to them. “You have been good to Shêtân,” he said slowly. “He has developed into a very fine horse.” He lowered his voice until Alec and Henry could barely make out his words.